Show Me Your Teeth
by Wolf Caper
Summary: Fun with the pack. Season Two AU. Lots of changes between the friends. Everyone is a werewolf now, with a good explanation - m/m, m/f, f/f - EXPLICIT CONTENT - MA
1. Chapter 1: Joker and the Thief

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Teen Wolf, it's characters, it's plots, or anything to do with it. I gain no compensation or payment for my work, nothing except for personal satisfaction and praise from others.**

**WARNINGS: explicit blood and gore/explicit cursing/explicit underage sex(most of the cast are under 18)/man on man/man on woman/woman on woman/threesome/masochism/wolf sex**

**All six of the main characters are werewolves now. The way they became 'wolves will be explained in the prequel that I'll be writing later, but briefly touched upon in this fic. Trust me there is a good reason and a good story. The name of this chapter is the name of the song that Stiles is listening to. It stems from what my MP3 shuffled to while I was writing this :) Each chapter will be named after a song, either the song played in the chapter, or the song I was listening to while writing it, if there was no song in the chapter.**

**I have a lot of ideas for what is coming; pack antics, smut, fighting, revelations, freak outs, angst, secrets. If you want to read more then review! I only post if people like it, since I write for my readers and not for myself...yes, I _am_ bribing you, lol :D**

**SONG: Joker and the Thief - _Wolfmother_**

Stiles stared out his window blankly, eyes locked on the growing fullness of the moon. Less than a week now. He _lived_ for full moon nights. They were the best nights of the month. The music from his Ipod deck filtered into the room, much lower than he would have had it a few months ago. He had werewolf hearing now, and any volume higher than 10 was too loud for his sensitive ears. That was the big difference between werewolf-Stiles and werewolf-Scott; Stiles used his abilities as much as possible, embraced them, accepted them, _wanted_ them, and payed attention when his ears or nose or instincts were telling him something. Scott still denied his 'gift', seeing it as a 'curse', even though the object of his affection was a werewolf as well.

Allison was doing a damn fine job of accustoming herself to it, too, as much as Stiles hated to admit it. It wasn't that he disliked Allison, he just resented her a little, for taking his best friend away from him. Even though she was all alone, and her parents had left her when they found out what she was, she was still doing a great job of handling things. She was a strong girl. She was coping. With help from Scott, of course, always at her beck and call, her obedient little slave puppy. It was disgusting, actually. And that wasn't just his jealousy talking. They were goddamn teenagers for christsake! How could they act so in love and obsessed with each other?

Derek said they were destined to be mates. Sort of soulmates, but not as sappy. Well, with them it was fucking sappy, but Derek said that not all mate pairings were as sickeningly sweet and disgusting as those two were. Stiles just hoped the whole 'honeymoon phase' wore off soon, because it was really starting to get on his nerves that he couldn't even be around his so-called best friend for more than five minutes without him making out with Allison, or leaving to go be with Allison, or texting Allison, or Allison fucking _being there_!

Jackson liked to tease him about him having a crush on Scott, but they all knew it wasn't true. He didn't tease him too much about it, or too viciously, because he knew Stiles could take care of himself now, and he had a shorter temper...and besides, whenever Jackson started going off about Stiles and Scott, Derek got all growly and glowy-eyed if he was around, and that usually shut Jackson up pretty quickly. Jackson was still undeniably terrified of his Alpha, even though Derek showed no signs of acting on the threats he was always making.

In fact, everyone in the pack seemed to be terrified of Derek, even Lydia, who tried her best to hide it, and usually succeeded. Everyone was scared of Derek...except maybe Stiles. Things were different now. Stiles wasn't a defenseless, helpess, weak human any more. He was sure he probably wouldn't be any match for Derek if there was a _real_ fight between them, not just the arguing they were constantly doing, and the angry-wrestling they did on occasion. Stiles wasn't scared of Derek because he had seen another side of Derek, one he didn't think the others had seen. The caring and concerned side. The unbearably aroused side. The amazing control he showed. Even when he was using that control to resist Stiles and all his...temptations.

Nothing had happened between he and Derek- besides maybe a few hard kisses and a little uncontrolled, fully-clothed rutting- but that wasn't for a lack of trying on Stiles' part. Derek just seemed damn determined to keep away from Stiles, to keep anything from happening between them. It would have been a huge blow to Stiles' ego if he didn't already know Derek so well, know why he was doing it. He didn't want to get close to Stiles because he didn't want to be hurt, didn't feel like he was worthy of love, and thought that Stiles deserved someone better. He would never say any of that, of course, but Stiles knew it, he could see it, smell it, read it in his eyes. And it was completely ridiculous.

Stiles kept trying, though, cornering him in another room when the rest of the pack was busy or occupied, walking around with his shirt off alot, like the other guys had a habit of doing- he had a lot more to show off, now, than he used to- and letting his arousal and need rise up and slam full force into Derek whenever they were alone. As a result, Derek had started avoiding him, and trying not to be alone with him. He made sure to always have another pack member there when he had to talk to him, or made someone come with him when he went into another room to get something. Stiles thought it was actually kind of funny. His Alpha was acting like he was scared, like Stiles was going to rape him or something. He was acting intimidated.

The only time they got close any more was on the three days of the full moon. The pack usually had a barbeque or dinner of some sort at Derek's the day before the moon was at it's peak, when emotions and impulses were running high. It was a clever way of staying away from other people and being together in their neediest times. They would usually feast, then cuddle together to watch a movie, or just to watch the stars and talk. By the end of the night, Scott and Allison were paired off, out in the woods somewhere having a good ol' time, and Jackson and Lydia were doing the same, in the opposite direction. Which left Stiles and Derek alone and awkward. Most of the awkwardness being on Derek's part. This is when their makeout sessions usually occured, though Derek _always_ refused to take it _any_ further. No matter what Stiles did or said. He hadn't resorted to begging for it yet...he had more dignity than that...plus, he was saving that as his secret weapon, to pull out at an opportune time.

On the day of the full moon, the pack was together all day, usually because they had slept at Derek's- or in the woods near Derek's house- the night before. They play-fought and wrestled and goofed around all day, their wolves closer to the surface than usual. Stiles took a special delight in beating the other two guys in wrestling matches every chance he got. Because the winner got to wrestle the Alpha.

Derek usually sat back and watched his pack play, joining in every now and then, but mostly being a stoic sour wolf. As usual. But Stiles and the other boys had started a wrestling tournament. The girls got to pick who went first, and the winner fought the next guy that had been left out from the first fight. Or sometimes all three would go at it at once while the girls cheered and called out advice and Derek sat back watching and trying not to smile. Either way, the ultimate winner got to wrestle Derek. Stiles almost never lost. He wasn't sure if it was because of his skill, or because the other boys let him win, afraid of the rough treatment that Derek liked to dole out when it was his turn to wrestle. Stiles didn't care either way, he just delighted in being the one that got to roll around shirtless with Derek on top of him. He never won those fights, of course, though he had come close once when he caught Derek off guard with an unexpected grope. The object, for him, wasn't to win, it was to make it last as long as possible before Derek won.

Then night would roll around, and everyone's anticipation would spike. The scent was delicious to Stiles. He adored the smell of his pack, sweet and warm and wolfy, so close to the shift it was palpable. They would shift and then go running together in Derek's woods- what Stiles had started to think of as 'Derek's woods'- hunting and playing and howling with joy as their wolf halves took over, guiding them by instinct. It was the happiest Stiles felt all month, being so out of control. He was usually very controlled, focused. That was something that had come with his transition. It was as if he had been healed of his ADHD, almost the way Scott had been healed of his asthma. He never knew it worked that way until it happened to him. Even Derek was surprised at his subtle changes. He was still Stiles, just more focused, more confident. Less stuttery. Which meant his mind was even sharper. He still came out with witty remarks and cutting sarcasm, funny jokes and silly antics, but he was different. In a good way, according to most of the people around him.

He bobbed his head slowly to the music. It was a good song. 'Joker and the Thief', by _Wolfmother. _He hit repeat as the song ended, eyes still glued to the silvery whiteness of the big rock in the sky. He hadn't seen Derek in almost a week and he actually missed him. Missed that growly scowly frowny face of his. He was gorgeous no matter what expression he wore, but he was especially breathtaking when he smiled...not that it happened often. Stiles could count on one hand the number of time he'd seen Derek actually smile.

He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his hair. He had let it grow out a little from the brutally short buzz cut it had been in before, that he'd had since his mom died. It was still short, but there was alot more of it. Actually enough to hang over his forehead a tiny bit. Scott kept telling him he needed a hair cut, and Stiles kept telling Scott to shut up. He was planning on letting it grow out a little, and keeping it longer. He liked the way it made him look. It hardened his face somehow, made him look less childish.

He was lost in thought, silently willing the moon to get full faster so he could see Derek sooner, but she didn't seem to be listening, or else didn't care what her child had to say. As the song was ending yet again, Stiles turned and reached for his Ipod, changing it to a different song, one he had to scroll though to find. Once he found it, he turned to place the device back onto the port, and music trickled into his room once more. Over the quiet sound of the music, he could've sworn he heard a scraping on his rooftop, like somone's shoe slipping. His heart started pounding as he went to the window. _Derek? Please let it be Derek, please let it be Derek! _He stood in front of the window, tense and waiting, until the glass slowly slid up and a head popped into his room, smiling at him...

**What do you think? Is it Derek? I LOOOOVE reviews! *hint, hint***


	2. Chapter 2: Chasing Cars

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, especially the ones who gave me helpful tips; you know who you are. You gave me the incentive and motivation to write this chapter. Hope you like it! Reread and re-edited it, hope I got all the typos this time! Next chapter will be rather long, so it might be a day or two in the making...**

**SONG: Chasing Cars - _Snow Patrol_**

Stiles caught a whiff of expensive perfume just before a head of silky strawberry blonde hair was thrust into his room, a slight smile on her face. What the hell was Lydia doing here? She climbed the rest of the way in, her smile a little awkward and unsure. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to see her, because he did still like her, he just wasn't sure what the fuck she was doing in his room. She had been nicer to him since he had been bitten, and even more friendly, still, once she was also turned, and had joined the pack, but still... she never showed much interest in hanging out with him solo. And she had never been in his room before. He glanced around, a little embarassed at the state it was in. It was messy, but at least he had developed a habit of cleansing any offending smells from the area, since his senses were so much more heightened now. So at least there was that. He was glad he had jerked it in the shower, earlier, and not in his bed, or that would have been embarassing, since he couldn't do any laundry until tomorrow, and she would definitely have been able to smell it.

She smelled delicious, a faint hint of her expensive perfume- much less than she used to use- mixed with her own natural scent...and the almost overpowering smell of whiskey. She had a bottle clutched in her hand, a big one, and it was almost gone. Figures. The only way Lydia Martin would be in his room of her own free will was if she were drunk. But, she didn't really look all that drunk, just slightly tipsy. Stiles couldn't help but be hyper aware, and self-concious, of his surroundings, and his state of undress. He had on only a pair of pajama pants and nothing else. They were untied, so they slung low on his hips, and he had to resist the urge to hike them up and tie the strings tight.

It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him mostly naked before. After a full moon night, the pack usually woke up in the forest together, in a big cuddly puppy pile, all in various states of undress, clothing usually ruined. Sometimes it got a little awkward, since they had to walk all the way back to Derek's house in whatever clothing they had to cover themselves, but they had quickly grown accustomed to it and learned to be comfortable in their own skins. They had no choice, really. But this was different. He was lounging in his messy room, thinking about Derek, getting ready to climb into bed, and she had crawled through his window, entering his space, _his_ territory, without permission... she had invaded his Stiles-time. He was only slightly offended, since it _was_ Lydia Martin, after all. The hottest girl he had ever seen in his life.

She staggered toward him, then stopped, pausing before advancing again, a little more surefooted this time. Her smile widened as she got closer. He was only a few feet away, but she was walking slowly, as if giving him time to flee. He did have the urge to back away from her, from that strange look in her eyes, but managed to restrain himself, staring her down in a vaguely challenging way. What the hell was she doing? As she drew closer, the stench of the whiskey got stronger. Stiles hadn't had a good drink since he had been turned, but now, he assumed, it took alot more to inebriate a werewolf than it did a normal human, if the nearly-empty bottle in her hand was any indicator. She brought it to her lips and drained the rest of it, then smacked the empty bottle down on his desk as she got to it. He wasn't sure when her smile, her expression, her scent, had changed from awkward and a little unsure to predatory and posessive, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

On one hand, the way she looked up at him was inviting and seductive and hot as fuck. On the other hand, it was a challenge, almost a claim of ownership, that look in her eyes. He decided he didn't like it, and he emulated Derek with a fierce scowl.

"What are you doing here, Lydia?" His voice was low and quiet, but forceful. She pouted prettily as she stopped in front of him, running a couple fingertips ever so lightly down the bare skin of his abdomen.

"What, aren't you happy to see me, Stiles? Didn't you once tell me that you have been in love with me since elementary school, huh?" She licked her lips and smiled at him, but it wasn't one of her usual sly smiles, it was all teeth, and a little too fierce. What had gotten into her?

"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked, almost coldly, but not quite. Who was she to toy with him and mock him for his feelings? He had told himself he wouldn't give her that kind of power over him again.

Her pout got heavier, a fake sad look on her face as she leaned into him, pressing against him, never breaking eye contact. Stiles just stared her down, jaw clenched.

Lydia laughed, short and harsh. "Don't try to be something you're not, Stiles. We both know you want me." She slowly reached up and wrapped her arm around his neck, pressing her body tight to his, licking her lips as her hand played with the hair at his nape. He didn't feel the same way about her as he used to. Of course he still wanted her, but he wasn't stupid in love with her any more.

He gripped her hips, hard, digging his fingers in, and she smirked.

"You know, Lydia...it seems like you're the one who wants _me_..." and he gave her a smirk of his own. Her brow wrinkled slightly, and she bit her lip, but she didn't deny it. His smirk became even more self-satisfied and he bared his teeth. "That's what I thought." He moved one hand from her hip to fist in her hair, then he took her mouth. Hard and fierce, lips melting against hers, nipping and biting and sucking, and she couldn't help the little moan she let out before she started kissing him back, trying to take control of the kiss. But he wouldn't let her.

She grabbed his hips and tried to push him backwards, towards the bed, but he resisted. He had no intention of fucking Lydia, none at all. That would just cause unnecessary tension in the pack. Plus, he could smell Jackson on her, and that definitely was not a turn on. He broke away from her and took a deep breath. Her lips were swollen, eyes heavy-lidded, but she somehow still managed to look annoyed and haughty.

"You're not getting what you came here for, Lydia," he ground out, and her chin trembled. This was all about power and control, he saw that now. She needed to dominate him, to control him, because she was feeling so out of control, for whatever reason. But he wasn't one to be dominated and used as a plaything, as a fucktoy. Not any more. Not by _her_.

He gripped her shoulders in his hands and peeled her off of him, much to her obvious displeasure.

"Talk to me, Lydia," he said, voice gentler, softer than it had been before, cajoling. "What has gotten into you?" She didn't look like she was going to tell him. She stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact now, and his brow knitted with worry. Lydia could be a bitch, and she could be selfish, but he still cared about her. Even if she was trying to use him. That was just Lydia. "Lydia-" he started, but she interrupted him.

"We had a fight, okay? He said- that I was- he said some awful stuff...I just wanted a little comfort..." He knew the 'he' she was talking about was Jackson. Who else would it be? She looked up at him under wet lashes, still trying to convince him to give her what she wanted. He sighed and pulled her into his arms, hugging her, pressing her head against his chest. She growled and struggled against him, pushing on his chest, so he let her go. "You're gay, aren't you?" she demanded angrily, and Stiles could feel his jaw drop. Then he sputtered a nervous laugh.

"No, I'm not gay, Lydia. You're beautiful, and you're right, I do want you, but-"

Lydia finished for him. "But you're in love with Derek!" Stiles sputtered and stammered, cheeks red, not knowing wat to say, not knowing how to speak. Was he that transparent? He didn't think he was in love with Derek, exactly, but he sure wanted to fuck him, and she was a woman, so the lust and want she read on him probably translated into love, in her eyes. Lydia sighed and turned away from him, giving him her back, as he stood there spluttering helplessly.

"No! I'm not!" He finally managed to get out. But Lydia didn't seem to hear him, or else she didn't care.

"It's not obvious," she muttered, her back still to him, her voice holding an edge to it that he didn't really like. "I'm just perceptive. I don't think anyone else even realizes it. Oh, sure they know you want to fuck him-" Stiles spluttered and stammered some more "-but no one realizes that's not all it is." She turned to face him with an odd look on her face, then she smiled in a knowing way. "I won't tell anyone, either...on one condition."

Stiles growled. "I'm not having sex with you, Lydia!"

Lydia sighed, then chuckled, but her face took on an innocent look he knew was an act. "That's not the condition. I don't really have anywhere to go tonight...and I don't want to be alone..." Stiles just looked at her, not really sure what she was getting at. She rolled her eyes, innocence falling away and being replaced by exasperation. "Can I sleep here? Just for tonight...maybe get a ride to school in the morning?" She batted her eyelashes prettily.

Even after everything that had happened, her trying to use him and all, he couldn't say no to that face. He knew she was trying to make Jackson jealous, too. It was okay, as long as they didn't have sex. Jacskon would be able to smell that. Stiles scent would already be all over her, and even more if she slept there, but it was different. As long as they didn't have sex, Lydia could use Stiles to make Jackson jealous. It was a complicated dynamic between the pack, but pretty much the only way to cross a line when it came to another 'wolf's mate was to fuck them. Touching and cuddling was completely normal with the pack, so, while the strength of his scent on Lydia, and seeing Stiles give her a ride to school- obvioulsy displaying that she head spent the night with him- might make Jackson jealous, he was in no position to start anything, because it was perfectly acceptable, as long as she didn't smell like sex.

Stiles sighed in a put-upon way that was mostly just for show and then nodded shortly. "Alright, you can stay...but I'm _not _giving up my bed for you."

She pouted at his lack of chivalry, then shrugged with a devious smirk. "That's all right, we can share it." When she saw his nonchalant shrug, she got all huffy. But then she started to strip. Stiles turned away, to his Ipod, and turned off the song that was about halfway through. 'Chasing Cars', by Snow Patrol. Lydia whined. "Hey! I like that song!"

Stiles scoffed. "I can't sleep with the music on." Then he flipped off the lamp on his desk and climbed into bed, leaving a spot for Lydia. He could still see almost perfectly from the moonlight streaming through the window. He knew that was going to get on his nerves...but he was already in bed. "Close the curtains," he told Lydia, turning over and getting comfortable. She made an outraged noise at his order. He ignored her.

"You could say please!" she growled.

"I don't have to let you sleep here," was all he said, eyes closing. She growled again, but shut the curtains. He chuckled.

"Shut up," she grumbled as she climbed into bed with him.

He didn't realize until she pressed up against his back, but she was wearing only her bra and panties. His breath hitched, but he kept his eyes closed, body turned firmly away from her. She sighed lightly, breath gusting against his neck and giving him goosebumps. "G'night," she murmured breathily, cuddling up to his back. "Night," he said back, maybe a little curtly. How the fates hated him. If only Lydia had come at him like that a few months ago, when he was crazy about her and would do anything for her. Maybe something could have happened between them, and maybe he wouldn't be desperately lusting after Derek right now, wishing it was him in his bed instead of a beautiful girl.

He considered Lydia's theory, that he was in love with Derek, thought about it for a moment, then dismissed it. Ridiculous. Impossible. He just wanted him, that was all. As Stiles drifted into sleep with the lulling sound if Lydia's breath at his back, and thoughts of Derek in his head, he allowed himself to imagine, just for an instant, that it was true...

**Sorry to disappoint everyone who was hoping it would be Derek at Stiles' window! I can't just jump right into things with them yet! Have some patience! IT'S COMING! hehe. Oh, and sorry if this chapter is a little... weird. I wrote it at 430 in the morning, half asleep and in pain, because I had the idea in my head and wanted to get it out before I forgot it. I read over it and edited it, but it's still weird, lol.**

**Someone is going to catch them in bed together in the morning... who's it gonna be? Sherrif Stillinkski? Scott? Jackson? Derek? Allison? Someone else...?**


	3. Chapter 3: This Dirt Room Love

**Not as long as I originally planned on making it; I decided to split it up.**

**So sorry about the graphic thing on the last chapter...didn't know I wasn't allowed to post links, grr, I'm new to FFDN. Here: i1228 dot photobucket dot com/albums/ee447/SilverTongue383/TeenWolfPack dot jpg**

**replace each 'space/"dot"/space' with a period "." and you have the url! That's the graphic I made for the fic. It's nothing special, just simple, with all the pack members.**

**Thanks everyone for your supportive comments. I only write new chapters when I get at LEAST one person saying they like it, that way I know I'm not the only one reading it :)**

**SONGS: This Love - _Maroon 5_ and Dirt Room - _Blue October_**

Stiles awoke to the sound of his window sliding up. His eyes snapped open and he was immediately wide awake and aware. As a familiar scent hit his nostrils, he calmed down somewhat, realizing there was no immediate threat to the lives of he and Lydia. But Lydia was here in bed with him, her arm was draped across his waist, her cloths were scattered all around, and there was an empty whiskey bottle on his desk. He could only imagine the things that were being thought.

As he lifted his head, his eyes met a confused set of green ones. There was some other emotion there that he couldn't identify, and then it turned to anger when those eyes lay on the empty whiskey bottle. Stiles wasn't worried Derek would think they'd had sex, it was obvious they hadn't, by their scents. He poked Lydia hard in the ribs, waking her, and sat up in bed, swinging his legs over the side and onto the floor. His eyes stayed on Derek.

"What the hell is this?" Derek asked, voice low and quiet, but hard as steel.

Stiles bristled at the demanding tone. He didn't really have any room to be angry. Alpha or not. This was nothing concering him. He couldn't act like he had any kind of hold over Stiles, or claim on him. Not now. Not when he was pushing him away all the time. He shrugged in a way that he hoped seemed careless.

"What? I'm a teenager, I-I have needs!" he sputtered, standing up and taking a step forward...and tumbling to the floor as he stepped directly onto Lydia's slick, silky skirt, and his legs slid out from under him. His ass hit the floor hard, and he grunted at the shock. Lydia started laughing, and he peeked over the top of the bed from his posotion on the floor, glaring at her. "Shut up, you! It's your fault! Don't you know how to pick up your damn cloths?" Lydia just kept laughing.

Stiles turned back to look at Derek, a grumpy look on his face, but he didn't move to get up, just sat there on his floor, legs stretched out in front of him and arms crossed over his chest. He was surprised to see a faint smile tugging at the corners of Derek's lips...but it disappeared as soon as it had appeared when he noticed Stiles looking at him.

"You know Jackson isn't going to be happy about this." It wasn't a question. Derek didn't look too happy about it either, even though it had to be obvious to him that the two of them hadn't had sex, if he just took a deep whiff. Lydia scowled and grumbled.

"What was that?" Derek asked, a slight edge to his voice. Lydia sighed.

"I don't care what Jackson thinks," it wasn't what she had said before, and they all knew she was lying. The two of them just looked at her. She rolled her eyes and got up out of the bed, not caring that she was half naked, stretching her lithe body, working out the kinks from sleep. She was oblivious to the stares of the two men as she did so. Appreciative stares. She turned to look at the two of them, glanced back and forth between them, then scoffed and shook her head.

"You two have issues," she muttered before disappearing into the bathroom that lead off of Stiles' room.

"There's extra toothbrushes under the sink!" Stiles called. There was no answer. He looked back at Derek, who was regarding him with an odd look in his eyes. "What?" he snapped, not liking that look at all. Derek just kept staring, staying silent. It was making Stiles a bit uncomfortable. He stood up slowly and looked back at him. "We didn't have sex, okay?" he sputtered, waving his arms about, eyes wide. Derek just looked at him.

"I know," he said calmly, at if it was obvious. And, really, it was. Derek started walking around the room, his nose twitching, and Stiles just watched him, unsure and uncomfortable. He picked up the bottle and sniffed it, the side and the mouth. Glancing at Stiles, he set it back down in it's spot. He picked up Lydia's skirt off the ground and smelled it, too. Stiles made a face.

"Pervert," he muttered. Derek glared, but just dropped the skirt back onto the floor without a word. He came towards Stiles, eyes seemingly cold and angry, and Stiles had to resist the urge to flee. He wasn't _usually_ scared of Derek, but right now he seemed pretty intimidating. Derek stopped in front of Stiles, very close, then leaned in and sniffed him, his face, his mouth, his neck, his chest. Stiles stayed stock still, only slightly embarassed that the feel of Derek's breath gusting out, and the heat from his body, was turning him on.

Derek let out a short, low, grumbly growl. "Good job consoling your pack mate. Next time, don't kiss her." Derek's voice was a low rumble, quiet enough that Lydia wouldn't be able to hear over the running of the water in the sink. He sounded almost sarcastic, and the look in his eyes was anything but appreciative.

Stiles frowned. "How do you know _she_ didn't kiss _me_?" he demanded, voice embarassingly squeaky.

Derek scoffed, then he lifted both of Stiles' hands, scenting them, then sniffed his mouth again. "I just do," he said, voice steady and sure. Stiles shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, a little nervously.

"W-what can I say?" he finally said. He hated how Derek always brought out the stuttery stammery side of him. It annoyed him to no end. He thought that part of him was long gone, but all Derek had to do was look at him a certain way, get a little too close to him, and it all came rushing back. The nervousness was partially due to intimidation, but also had to do with attraction. Derek's overwhleming presence made every fiber of Stiles' being stand at attention, made him ache and want and made him uncomfortably aware. He had never in his life known anyone that was able to do that to him besides Derek.

Stiles had always thought he was straight. He had never been attracted to a member of the same sex before, so he had just assumed..._well, that's what you get for assuming_. He hadn't realized how much he really was attracted to Derek until the night he had been bitten. Until he had seen the other side to Derek, the one that wasn't always threatening to rip out his throat. He saw the concern, and the way he took care of him, worried about him. The next day, as Derek drove him home, they had even had a bit of a conversation, bonding over the music they liked. Derek had even stayed for breakfast, which Stiles made, cooking every breakfast food he could find in the kitchen. Derek had polished off his plate and the rest of what Stiles couldn't eat. That was the most time they had spent together without Derek threatening or intentionally terrifying Stiles. It was kind of nice.

Of course, at the time, Stiles couldn't help but think that the change in attitude was only because he had become a werewolf. He still wasn't sure what the truth was concerning that, since there had still been threats made, piercing dagger stares, and bodily harm done, just not to the extreme that it had been before. Derek had talked to him, explained things to him, taught him about being a werewolf. He knew things that Scott didn't even know. But that was only because Scott didn't care. He didn't _want_ to know. Stiles and Derek had formed a tentative friendship, one that Derek never seemed to like to display in front of the others, for some reason.

Stiles had been the first werewolf in the pack. The first one to call Derek 'Alpha'. The first one to have been turned by Derek's own bite...well, sort of...it was very complicated. Scott had denied Derek as Alpha after Peter's death, refused to join his pack, and was furious at Derek for what he saw as a betrayal. He eventually got over himself, of course. Meanwhile, Derek had been fighting with his control, almost like he was relearning how to be a werewolf. He still had issues with that control sometimes. But, somehow, Stiles seemed to help with that.

As they looked at each other now, only a few inches of space separating them, Stiles couldn't fight his arousal at the proximity. He could smell the faint hint of anger on Derek, and some other emotion he couldn't identify. Along with a growing arousal of his own. Stiles hesitated a split second before taking a small step forward, closing the distance between them so that they were now touching. He leaned forward and scented Derek, the same way Derek had done to him a few moments ago, but with a different objective.

"You smell good," he said, voice husky, more of a growl. He watched Derek's pupils dilate, darkening his eyes, and the smell of his arousal strengthened. Derek leaned closer-

"Try to restrain yourselves, boys. There's still a lady present," Lydia said, coming out of the bathroom. Derek jumped back, and Stiles glared daggers at Lydia, who just smiled at him brightly, knowingly. He could read the "I told you so" all over her face. He bared his teeth, snarling at her, but she just ignored him, humming happily as she picked up her skirt and slipped it on, then searched around for her other boot. "Oh, yeah, can I borrow one of your shirts, Stiles? I spilled whiskey on mine..." Lydia glanced at Derek as if waiting for a response from him. He glared at her too. She rolled her eyes.

"So, how did getting drunk work out for you?" Derek said, a bit of mocking in his voice.

Lydia made a face. "Not as well as I'd hoped." She looked at Stiles expectantly. He pointed to his dresser.

"Top drawer," he growled, still pissed that Lydia had interrupted them.

She opened his drawer and rifled through it, trying to find something that appealed to her. Stiles looked at Derek, wondering what he was even doing there. Derek had been avoiding him, trying to stay away from him, so what was he doing in his room? He opened his mouth to ask, but Derek spoke first.

"Jackson is really worried about you, you know," Derek muttered. Lydia paused for a second, then continued her rifling.

"Well, maybe he shouldn't have been such an asshole," she said. Stiles agreed. "Is that why you're here? Did he send you to look for me?"

Derek growled menacingly. "No one _sends_ me to do anything," he snapped. "He told me he was worried and couldn't find you, so I took it upon myself to discover your location. I don't want anything to happen to my pack." He ground out the last part, as if the words pained him. Lydia scoffed.

"Oh, how sweet of you," she said sarcastically. "You almost sounded sincere there." She knew how to push people's buttons. It was one of her skills. But she tended not to do it with Derek. She usually knew better. She must've been really upset and trying not to show it. If her behavior last night was any indicator, that wasn't far from the truth.

Although Derek, it seemed, was not in the mood. A low growl rumbled in his chest. His eyes flashed red and his fists clenched. Lydia froze again, as if being still would save her from certain death. Stiles stepped forward and put a hand on Derek's arm.

"Hey," he said softly. "Calm down."

Derek's eyes snapped to him, and the red glow slowly faded. He took a deep breath and nodded jerkily. Lydia had missed the glow in his eyes, the loss of control. The rest of the pack didn't know about Derek's struggle. Only Stiles was aware of it. He hid his issues well, as usual. Lydia had only heard his growl. Once she sensed the tension in the room had died down, she went back to rummaging. She still hadn't turned around.

Stiles slowly let his hand slide off of Derek's arm, but he didn't step away from him again. He told himself it was because he wanted to be ready in case Derek lost control again. Lydia seemed to bring that out in everybody.

"Do you _own_ anything presentable?" Lydia demanded of Stiles, annoyance in her tone. He snickered and rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a teenage girl, nor do I typically entertain teenage girls, so, no I don't, maybe you should bring some cloths over and I'll clear out a drawer for you, as long as you're planning on making a habit of sleeping here. You know, I could..." he trailed off at the sound of a rumbly growl and turned to look at Derek, staring open-mouthed for a moment before breaking into a bright and cheerfully sheepish smile. Lydia had completely ignored him. "Don't be such a sour wolf," he told Derek. "I'm just messin' around. You know, everyone needs to lighten up. Why are you all so damn grumpy all the time? Being a werewolf is great! What's there to be angry about? I for one love it. Just because a racing pulse may make you change into a vicous psyho animal bent on slaughtering all of Beacon Hills doesn't mean it can't be fun, right? Just no sex and no getting angry and no being scared, that's all there is to it! How is that so hard? Those are just parts of every day life, natural impulses and responses, easy to ignore, right? That's why we all-"

"Shut up, Stiles!" Derek and Lydia said at the same time. Stiles closed his mouth with a sigh. There he went, rambling again. He blamed it on Derek, standing so close. Even though Stiles had been the one to close the distance in the first place. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he went over and opened the drawer next to Lydia, pulling out a pair of boxers.

"I'm going to take a shower," he muttered, not really talking to either of them, just kind of stating it. He made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him and flicking the lock. Leave Lydia to her fate. If Derek lost control and mauled her, well, it was her own fault. He turned the shower on, letting it heat up and fill the bathroom with steam while he stepped out of his pajama pants and brushed his teeth. When he stepped into the hot stream of water, he couldn't help the needy little moan he let out as it hit his skin. He quickly washed up, then spent a few minutes just standing there in the trickling warmth, letting it soak to his bones, relaxing him. He had the urge to slide his hand down his stomach and grip his cock in his hand, the smell of Derek seeming to cling in his nostrils...but there were two other 'wolves just outside his bathroom door, and he had no doubt they would be able to smell what he was doing. Had it been just Derek, he would've kept his door unlocked, and he would've just gone ahead and done it, hoping to tempt him. But Lydia was out there, too, so he couldn't follow his usual relaxing morning routine.

His shower was done, but the water just felt so good, so he leaned against the wall and let it beat down on his body, luxuriating in the relaxation it brought him. Then he heard a banging on his door, and almost jumped out of his skin.

"Stiles! We have to go soon or we're gonna be late!" Lydia shouted, and he snarled viciously. Why had he ever been in love with that heartless selfish girl was beyond him. He rolled his eyes and turned off the water, quickly scrubbing his skin dry with the towel before slipping on his boxers and exiting through the door, still running the towel over his wet hair. Then he stopped at the sight before him.

Lydia lay across his bed, fully dressed, in one of his wife beaters with a knot tied above her midriff, making the shirt cling and fit her better. Her skirt was rolled under at the top to make it a couple inches shorter, and to hide the strip of pink fabric at the waistband. Her vest was inside out, showing the purple side as opposed to the black, and she had rolled down the tops of her high-heeled boots and re-laced them, baring the floral pattern on the inside. Her hair was plaited in a long french braid, and her makeup was completely re-done. Her outfit was totally different than it had been the night before, with just a change of a shirt. Wow, she was talented. Must be a girl thing.

"You look good," he said as he walked further into the room.

She smiled arrogantly. "I know."

He went to his drawers and pulled out the first shirt and pair of pants he came to. They happened to be a bright yellow band t-shirt and a pair of ratty khaki cargos. He started to put them on, but Lydia made a strange noise in her throat, and he looked over at her. She was sneering and giggling at the same time.

"What?" he demanded.

_"That's_ what you're wearing?" She squealed, snickering.

He rolled his eyes. "I guess not...?" He didn't usually care about looking good when he was going to school. He usually just put on a t-shirt and jeans or whatever. He wasn't trying to impress anyone and he didn't care what anyone at school thought of him.

"What about that black henley I saw in the drawer? And those dark jeans...?" Lydia suggested cautiously.

Stiles just gave her a look. "What, are you dressing me now? I'm not a damn barbie! And what were you doing looking in my pants drawer anyway? I thought you were looking for a shirt?" he glanced around, realizing a certain tall-dark-and scowly was missing. "Where'd Derek go?"

Lydia smirked at him infuriatingly. "He said he was just making sure I was okay, and he went home."

Stiles' shoulders slumped. "Oh." It was stupid of him to think that Derek would've been there for _him_. He thoughtlessly pulled out the clothing Lydia had suggested and put it on, then he stepped in front of his full length mirror. Lydia let out an appreciative whistle and he rolled his eyes.

"I look like Derek," he said with a frown.

Lydia scoffed. "No. Trust me. You don't." Stiles turned to scowl at her and she let out a little laugh. "Okay, maybe you do a little. I think it looks good. You should wear it."

Stiles ignored her, digging in his shirt drawer, and came out with a dark red Incubus t-shirt, which he changed into. Lydia pouted, but didn't say anything. He swiped on a thin layer of deodorant- any more would've bothered his nose- and pulled on socks and his converse. Then he glanced at Lydia.

"Ready?" she asked, sounding impatient. He nodded. "Gawd, you take longer to get ready than a girl!"

He made an outraged noise. "Hey! I like long showers! I'm not a girl!"

Lydia ignored him, standing up and getting her purse from his desk. He hadn't even realized she had a purse. He grabbed his backpack from it's place on the floor by the desk and slung it over his shoulder, snatching his Ipod from its dock and his cell phone from his nightstand, sliding them into his pocket.

"Wanna go out the window, or just out the front door like a normal person?" he asked in a sarcasm laden voice. Lydia gave him a look and led the way out his bedroom door. They had ten minutes to get to school before the first bell.

As they climbed into Stiles' jeep, he glanced over at her.

"Do you need to go by your house to get your back pack?" he asked as he started up the car.

"Unh uh," she mumbled, head on her hand and looking out the window. "No time. I'm not going to break my attendance record because you "like to take long showers". I'll just borrow a notebook and pen from you."

"Oh, you will?" Stiles asked, amused.

She nodded. "Yep." She still wasn't looking at him.

He shook his head with a little laugh and pulled his Ipod out of his pocket, plugging it into his stereo system. He skipped over 'Chasing Cars' to the next song and just let it play from there. _Maroon 5_ blasted through his car, and he didn't miss the eye roll from Lydia. This was one of the bands he and Derek had bonded over. Derek had called it his secret guilty pleasure. Stiles twisted the knob, turning the music up, and started singing along.

"Quit playin' love like it was just a game, preteeeending to feel the same, then turn around and leave again. Oh! This, love, has, taken it's toll, on me, she said, goodbye, too many times before!"

Lydia glared at him and reached for his Ipod, but he slapped her hand away, ignoring her angry look.

"My car, my music! Her, heart, is, breakin' in front of me, and I have no choice, 'cause I won't say goodbye any more. Oh oh oh, woah woah woah, oh oh ooooh oh no. I'll fix your broken things. Repair your broken wings. And make sure everything's alright!"

"Oh my god!" Lydia growled in exasperation, and Stiles couldn't help bursting out laughing. She chuckled along with him a little, then reached for his Ipod again. He slapped her hand away again with a glare, then he changed the song himself. _Blue October_ blasted through his speakers, and there was no doubt he was gonna sing along again, this being one of his favorite songs.

_I'm like a ghost  
>I'll be living in a dirt room, waiting for the day to be closer<br>to the window in your hall  
>I'll be standing by your back door<br>Reaching for the knife in my coat  
>I'm gonna put it to your throat<br>Swear piggy you're a bad man  
>What a fuckin' sad way to go<br>Your moderation was a joke  
>I shoulda wiped away your burden<br>Used the curtain in the kitchen to choke  
>You<em>

"You think you own me, you should've known me, you took the future and the food off my family's plate, you think you used me but I'm stronger than you, you take my money but it's useless when you see what I do to yooooou." He hummed along with the music when there were no words, and he knew he was getting on Lydia's nerves, but he didn't care. This was another morning ritual. Or, rather, an everyday ritual. He always blared music and sung along when he was driving. That was one thing that hadn't changed.

As they got closer to the school, Stiles turned the music down a little and dug into his bag, pulling out a barely-used notebook and an extra pen, which he tossed into Lydia's lap. She didn't say anything, just took the items he tossed to her, still not looking at him. He wondered if she regretted last night, then came to the conclusion that she probabaly did. Why wouldn't she? She had a perfect boyfriend and a perfect reputation, why would she want to ruin that by being seen with him? The only times he saw Lydia at school was in class and at lunch, when they all sat at the same table. They didn't speak between classes, and if he tried to talk to her she would just act like he didn't exist, as usual. He wasn't the geek he used to be. He was first string now, and he hung out with all the jocks, and he had no problem getting dates, so he didn't know why she still treated him that way. It was as if it was a habit she couldn't break. He had kind of grown to resent her for it.

As they pulled up to the school, he turned the music down some more and looked for a parking spot. Most of them were already taken, since first bell was only a couple of minutes away. Lydia pointed to a spot right next to Jackson's porsche. He hesitated for only a second before he took the spot. Lydia jumped out of his jeep without saying anything, and he scoffed. _What else is new?_ As he climbed out of the jeep, he turned to find Lydia standing there near him, and was surprised. She walked up and kissed him on the cheek with a very small, very genuine smile.

"Thanks for last night," she muttered. She didn't apologize for being an inconvenience, or for trying to use him, or for interrupting he and Derek...and he hadn't really expected her to. That was just Lydia.

He nodded once. "See you at lunch."

She nodded back and scampered off. He looked up to see a few stragglers running to class. All of them were staring at him. He twitched. Then he smiled and waved. They ignored him, but he wasn't expecting a reaction. Now Jackson would know before the first bell even rang that Lydia had gotten a ride to school with him. That she had kissed him on the cheek and smiled at him. He unplugged his Ipod and slid it back into his pocket, shouldering his bag as he sauntered in through the front doors and to his homeroom, trying to think up the lies he was going to tell. Then he decided to just go with the truth. There was no reason to lie, nothing to hide, and he wasn't afraid of Jackson any more. The bell rang just as he got to the the door of his classroom. He sighed and rolled his eyes, then opened it. All eyes were on him as he took the last open seat, in the middle of class...right next to Jackson.

**I was going to keep going on past the day at school and then on to Stiles going home, since I had a funny idea...but I think this is a good place to stop for now. :) How do you think Jackson is going to react?**

**Let me know what you think. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Of Wolf and Man

**Thanks everyone for your continued support and for all the people that have faved my fic!**

**Thanks especially to Dereksgirl24. You have reviewed every chapter so far with only positive feedback!**

**For all you Dylan O'brien (Stiles) fans out there, you should check out his old YouTube channel. It's moviekidd826. My fave video is 'True Wannabe' that shit is freakin' hilarious, lol.**

**There is no song in this chapter. The name of it comes from the song I was listening to as I wrote it. Helped me get into the spirit, hehe.**

**SONG: Of Wolf and Man - _Metallica_**

Jackson glared. A threat in his eyes. Stiles scoffed and rolled his own eyes. Puh-leez. Jackson wasn't nearly as scary as he seemed to think he was. Even when he saw Jackson bow his head slightly, and his eyes flash icy blue for an instant. Stiles wasn't scared, just pissed. Out of every 'wolf in the pack, Jackson had the most trouble controlling his shift for some reason. Like he had more pulse-pounding moments than the rest of them. It must've been his anger problems that were the cause of that. Left over side effects from the steroids. _Goddamn roide rage. _He endangered the pack with his bullshit, and that was what pissed Stiles off.

Stiles awkwardly raised his hand in a cheery wave, giving Jackson a close-lipped smile, careful not to bare his teeth or look him in the eye. He wasn't scared of him, he really wasn't, he was just trying to avoid making it seem like he was challenging him, not wanting to start anything here in class, since the smell of he and Lydia all over each other was already challenge enough. Dominance battles could come later. Jackson just kept glaring at him. The teacher was talking, so they didn't have the opportunity to. He could feel Jackson's pissed off gaze on him the entire period. It was serving to piss him off pretty well, too.

His phone vibrated, and he discreetly pulled it out of his pocket to see that he had a text from Scott. He glanced behind him, to where Scott was sitting at the back of the room, an odd look on his face.

_-What the hell is going on?-_

The text read. Stiles sighed, not really sure how to answer him. He decided to play dumb.

_-Class is boring. Wat's goin on w/ u?-_

Send. He heard Scott's phone vibrate, and heard his angry little growl as he read the text, and Stiles almost laughed. As Scott typed a reply, the buttons on his phone sounded almost like they were cracking under the extra pressure, from his fingertips pushing too hard in his anger. Stiles' phone buzzed again, and he glanced at the text, trying not to grin.

_-You KNOW what I mean! Why do you and Lydia smell like each other? Why does Jackson look like he wants to kill you? What did you do?-_

Stiles scoffed. How nice of his best friend to automatically assume it was something _he_ did. He texted back.

_-L slept over. She & J had a fight. No sx. Gave her ride 2 skool. Thats it.-_

Send. He didn't get another text, and he didn't look back at Scott once the rest of homeroom. When the bell finally rang, most people jumped up and rushed out, headed to the cafeteria for breakfast, including the teacher. A few people lingered, though. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Jackson, and Allison. This was a pack matter.

Stiles and Jackson locked eyes while the other three stood by, watching, ready to jump in if things got out of hand. Stiles couldn't help but think this was mostly Lydia's fault. They didn't say anything for a long time, just stared each other down. Jackson finally broke the silence.

"She's mine," he snarled, eyes flashing blue. Stiles almost laughed.

"I know," he said, voice calm. "No one's arguing that fact." He almost laughed again at the confusion clouding Jackson's eyes.

"Then, what-"

"She was upset and didn't want to be alone." Stiles shrugged, glaring pointedly at Lydia before looking back at Jackson, who was avoiding his gaze now. "Maybe you should think twice before being such a dick next time, yeah?" He had gone too far. A low warning growl rose up in Jackson's chest, and Stiles should have known better, knew better than to get Jackson angry because of his lack of control. Derek had warned him about it. But Stiles was never very good at following orders.

He was tempted to put Jackson in his place, to show him just who was the top dog in this pack, but hadn't yet because Derek urged him not to. He said to let everyone settle in, let them get accustomed to each other and to their new insticts and impulses. Then and only then would he allow any dominance battles to take place. But Stiles was just itching for it. For more than just the mock fights they had around the full moon, testing each other. He wanted to go at it for real and prove to them all that he wasn't a sissy anymore. That he was the dominant beta of this pack.

He knew, though, that this was not the time or place for that. He had much better control than Jackson, and when he detected Jackson's pulse rising, he knew what was about to happen.

"Allison, get the door," he murmured, low and quiet.

Lydia was standing behind Jackson, and Scott was standing behind him, both ready to come to the defense of the person they cared about more, if need be. Allison was just kind of hovering at the edge, not knowing what to do. That's why he had told _her_ to get the door. He could feel Scott bristle behind him, at the nerve of him to give Scott's mate an order, but he didn't growl or freak out. Scott knew his place between the two of them without them having to fight about it.

Allison scurried over and shut the door firmly, clicking the lock in place. If Jackson was about to wolf out in the middle of school, they needed to keep anyone else from seeing him.

He was right on the brink, eyes flashing back and forth, muscles rippling. A deep snarl ripped through his chest, and Stiles braced himself as the change over took him. He was glad Jackson's back was to the door, so no one that happened to be passing by could see him through the window.

The comment Stiles had made was relatively harmless, not something he should have gotten so worked up over, but pairing it with the circumstances, Stiles could see his mistake. And now that the change had started, there was no going back until he managed to calm himself down. Stiles knew that wasn't happening unless he lost control first, unless he vented his anger at least a little bit. This was not the first time Jackson had done something like this, but usually they had Derek there to control him.

Jackson clenched his fists, nails digging into the skin of his palms and dripping blood. Stiles just stood in front of him, body tensed, but otherwise calm and collected, brown eyes locked with glowing icy blue ones. He was tired of waiting for something to happen, wanted to get it over with already and move on. So he decided to speed things along a little.

"You know, Lydia, you really should keep your mate on a tighter leash. Maybe then you wouldn't have to come to me when you..._need_ something." His eyes never left Jackson's, and he smiled mockingly when he heard the exasperated growls and groans of the other 'wolves in the room. Jackson growled, too, but much more menacingly. "Bring it on pretty boy," Stiles muttered, hunkering down like Jackson was doing, like a wrestler almost. His eyes flashed once, icy blue with gold streaks, before resuming their normal brown color.

Jackson dove at him, and Stiles dodged to the side and came down on top of Jackson, pinning him to the ground from the back. Jackson struggled, almost dislodging him, but he put on some extra muscle, nails and teeth lengthening, eyes glowing, and flipped him over, wanting him belly up. Gold-streaked eyes stared into fully blue ones and Stiles snarled, just once.

"Calm down, Jackson. Breathe." His voice was deep and husky, the animal speaking for him. Jackson struggled with him, claws scrabbling against his arms and tearing the skin. Blood pattered to the floor, trickling onto Jackson's face, before the wounds closed. "_Breathe_. Remember the breathing excersises Derek taught you. _Use them_. Breathe."

Jackson tried, he really did, but wasn't having much luck. Then Lydia was kneeling beside them, acting on instinct. She stroked a hand over Jackson's neck, his face, his arms. She told him to calm down, and for her, he did. His breathing normalized, his eyes slowly faded back to their normal blue-green color. He changed back, and as he did so, so did Stiles, who was still crouched on top of him.

They were all surprised, but it did make sense. Allison was Scott's source of strength, his rock, his mate. She was the only thing besides pain that could keep him from shifting. Lydia was Jackson's mate, and they loved each other very much, despite their problems in the past, and the problems they still had now. So why wouldn't it be the same with them? They had just never witnessed it between them before.

Jackson glared up at Stiles.

"Could you get the hell off of me, Stillinksi?" Stiles didn't miss the fact that he was avoiding eye contact now.

Stiles cleared his throat, feeling slightly awkward.

"Oh, um, yeah, right, sure, no problem." He climbed to his feet and brushed himself off, reaching out a hand to help Jackson up, surprised when he actually took it. "We okay, man?" he asked. Jackson glanced at him, then at Lydia, who immediately pasted herself to his side as he wrapped an arm around her.

"Yeah, we're cool," he muttered, a little distractedly as he looked at Lydia. He didn't quite sound like he meant it though. The two of them seemed gaga for each other all over again, and Stiles couldn't help but roll his eyes. When he turned around, he noticed Allison holding her phone up oddly, then realized what she was doing.

"Did you just video all of that?" he demanded. She bit her lip, then nodded.

"I thought maybe Derek would like to know what's going on with the pack."

Great. Now Derek would be pissed at him for starting shit with Jackson. _Great_! That _was_ a good thing. Maybe he would be angry enough to get physical with Stiles. Maybe pin him to a wall and growl at him. Stiles smiled a little at the thought. It was easy to take it from there to more nowadays. It wouldn't be hard to turn an angry growl into an aroused one. His smile widened and he turned it on Allison, who looked surprised.

"Yeah, good idea. You should send it to him now." Allison looked confused, but nodded. She was expecting him to be angry or fight her about it. She wasn't expecting him to agree. Stiles snickered. He didn't know why he'd never thought of the making-Derek-angry thing before now. What a brilliant idea. If this didn't work, he was sure he could come up with something that would. _Something_ that would make Derek angry. He was good at that.

He glanced at the rest of his pack standing around. Jackson and Lydia were all lovey-dovey again, and, as Allison finished sending the video on her phone, the look she and Scott shared let him know they were about to get the same way. He couldn't help feeling lonely and left out, being the only one of his friends without a mate.

Breakfast was about to be over in less than five minutes. There was no point in even going to the cafeteria now. He decided to get to class early. No shame in that. Besides, it was one of the few classes that he didn't share with anyone from his pack, and he would relish the short time away from them and their constant canoodling. He snagged his pack off the floor and slung it over one arm, calling an "I'll see you guys at lunch" over his shoulder as he flipped the lock back and left the classroom. He could feel eyes on him as he left, but didn't turn to see who the piercing gaze belonged to...

**I'm stopping here for now. Seemed like a good place to me. What are your thoughts on Stiles being dominant? On the mate connection? On everything else? I LOVE reviews! lol**


	5. Chapter 5: Tear You Apart

**Thanks for all your feedback everyone! I really appreciate the support, and how much everyone likes my story. :)**

**ENJOY!**

**SONG: Tear You Apart - _She Wants Revenge_**

The rest of the day seemed to speed by for Stiles. Classes were a blur. Lunch passed with no incident. The five of them sat at the same table, as usual, with Danny and a few other people. Girls and jocks and people Stiles talked to but didn't consider to be his friends. He ate his chicken strips in relative silence, mind occupied with other things. He noticed a few curious or concerned looks from his packmates, but they didn't question him.

When the final bell rang, he began to make his way toward the locker room for lacrosse practice. He met up with Scott in the hallway and they walked there together. He could tell Scott wanted to ask him what was wrong, what was on his mind, but he refrained, seemingly not wanting to push him. He wished Scott would just ask. He _wanted_ to talk, but no one seemed willing to let him.

Lacrosse practice was normal, regular, average, nothing special. It actually bored him a little, and he was glad when it was over. He took a shower and changed, then he and Scott walked out to the parking lot together. He was about to offer Scott a ride home, which would, hopefully, finally, give them a chance to talk, but Allison pulled up in her car and honked the horn. A sickeningly happy expression spread across Scott's face, and he jogged over to Allison's car, barely taking the time to call a farewell to Stiles over his shoulder as he went. Stiles waved back at him even though he knew he couldn't see him.

"No, Scott, I didn't want to talk about anything. Yeah, sure, go be with your mate and leave me, your_ best friend_, all alone as usual. No, no, it's okay, I'm perfectly fine with that. I'm totally okay with being all alone. I don't feel like you've ripped out my beating heart and eaten it at all! Why would you say something like that?" He continued his muttering tirade at himself as he walked to his jeep, tossing his back pack into the back a little too hard. He climbed into the driver's seat and slammed his door roughly. Then he winced and stroked the dash board. "I'm sorry baby, it's not your fault, I didn't mean to. Forgive me?" He got no reply. With a forlorn sigh, he shoved the keys ino the ignition and started the car, not even bothering to take out his Ipod and hook it up. He wasn't really in the mood for music today. Most songs were written about fucking love, anyway, and that would just depress him and remind him what he didn't have.

His thoughts immediately went to Derek, and what Lydia had said about Stiles being in love with him. Ridiculous. Impossible. He chased the thought from his mind with a rumbling growl, as he tore out of the parking lot and down the road toward his house.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Derek sat in Stiles' computer chair, reading a book from the towering stack that was piled on Stiles' nightstand. Something about sparkly vampires and a pale emo girl that didn't have a mind. He was having trouble focusing on the words. The writing was crappy and the plot kind of sucked. He placed it back on the stack and looked at the other titles. One called 'Bitten' caught his eye and he pulled it out of the middle of the tower, nearly toppling it. He settled back into the chair to read it, and actually found it quite interesting. It was about a female werewolf trying to fit into the human world. He was already on chapter ten when he heard Stiles' jeep pull up and park.

He knew something was wrong. There was no music blarring, no Stiles singing badly at the top of his lungs like usual. He waited for Stiles to come inside and into his room. The door to his jeep didn't open and close, he heard no movement. After a moment, the car started back up again, and pulled back out.

Derek was perplexed. Where the hell could he be going?

Derek was there to talk to him, to discuss the incident that happened at the school that morning. He had been waiting a couple hours, and he didn't mind waiting a little longer. As long as it wasn't _too_ long. He opened the book in his hands again, starting chapter ten over from the beginning. He was a patient man, but he wouldn't wait all day.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Stiles was tired of waiting. Done waiting for Derek to come to him. He was going to Derek. He figured he'd make the excuse that he wanted to talk about what had happened in school that morning, and try to make things progress in a different way. If outright coming onto him didn't work, he'd try the making-him-angry thing. Either way, he wasn't leaving until he got some action. Or made Derek admit to why he was avoiding him and pretending to want nothing to do with him. One or the other. Though, if he was being honest with himself, he would prefer a steamy makeout session over a heartfelt talk. He didn't mind Derek keeping his secrets, as long as they didn't come between Stiles and what he wanted to do to him.

The music stayed off as he sped toward Derek's house. His mind was so occupied that he didn't even realize it. As he pulled up, parking right next to Derek's camaro, he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Good, Derek was here. He wondered if the guy ever went _anywhere_ besides he or Scott's house. It didn't really seem like it.

He got out of his car, shutting the door gently, sliding a hand along the side of the jeep as if in apology for his earlier behavior. He could smell Derek everywhere, but it wasn't a fresh scent, an alive scent. It didn't smell like Derek was here. Even though his car was sitting there next to Stiles'. But where would he go without his car?

Stiles decided to take a look around, see if maybe his senses were betraying him, or maybe Derek was in the cellar, or the wind was just blowing hard. Whatever, he could be there. Maybe.

He walked the perimeter of the building but saw no sign of his beloved Alpha. He located the heavy metal cellar doors and pulled them open, descending into the dank dark space with only the slightest bit of trepidation. This was where Scott had told him Allison's aunt had kept Derek, tortured him. He felt like he could smell it, though he was probably just imagining things. Why would Derek be down here, with so many bad memories to haunt him? Wasn't this where his family had been killed, too?

He took a cursory glance around, but didn't explore any further before he slowly backed out, not liking the way the place was making him feel. What the hell was _that_ about? He pushed the heavy metal doors closed once more and went inside the house to take a look around. He had never really had a chance to explore the burnt out property before. The farthest he'd gotten was the bottom of the staircase. Maybe Derek was upstairs, taking a nap? He began to ascend the stairs.

His nose told him no, he wasn't upstairs, wasn't in the house, but his curiosity told him to look anyway. This was the perfect opportunity to snoop a little, and, well, if Derek came home and caught him, it was also the perfect opportuntity to piss him off. He grinned at the thought as he rounded the corner of the hallway, following the strongest scent of Derek. He came to a door that seemed pretty solid. The scent of Derek was all over it, much stronger than anywhere else on the second floor. He hesitated for a brief moment before turning the knob and pushing the door open, ignoring the squealing creak the rusty hinges made and telling himself the noise wasn't creepy at all.

The room was different than anywhere else in the house, but at the same time, exactly the same. The walls were charred and burnt, showing hits of dark blue paint underneath. The floor was greyish and burnt looking as well, but seemed as if it may have been scrubbed down and cleaned at some point. In fact, the walls looked as if they had been scrubbed as well, the charring and blackness only a stain on the bubbling paint.

There was a dresser in one corner with it's legs broken off, one end of it pressed against the wall, a small portion of it charred and blackened like the walls. It looked scrubbed-down, too. As he stepped further into the room, he noticed a difference in the scent of the air. The burning smell was much less noticeable here, the smell of Derek overpowering it considerably. He took another step, shutting the door behind him, and the scent all but disappeared. All he could smell was Derek.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply though his nose, reveling in the scent, letting it surround him. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell on a pile of blankets in the corner, behind the dresser. He approached cautiously, as if they might be alive. There was a flat twin mattress on the floor piled with blankets, most of them threadbare and tattered. A few pillows surrounded the small area all on sides, up against the wall and the back of the dresser, forming a kind of nest. There were claw marks gouged into the walls and the wood of the dresser, a few pillows ripped open, one side of the mattress shredded. The space reeked of Derek, stronger than anywhere else in the room.

The bare room was shocking to Stiles, but he didn't really know what he had been expecting. A king size bed with brand new sheets? Working electricity and running water? A big screen TV? Newly painted walls? How ridiculous. The house was a burnt and crumbling mess. Why would he renovate one room to fit his needs and leave the rest of the house the way it was? He didn't know why he'd had that image in his head. Besides, he had heard his dad say that the house belonged to the county now, so he was sure they didn't even know Derek was squatting in it. He wondered if they had plans to destroy it any time in the future, and decided to look into it a little. Where would Derek go then? Why was he hiding this from everybody?

The room was completely bare except for the dresser and the bed, the only other piece of furniture being a rickety wooden chair that was against the wall on the other side of the room with a small stack of books next to it. He glanced around, noticing another door leading off of the room, and he couldn't resist the pull of his curiosity. He pushed the door open and looked inside. It had once been a bathroom. The plumbing had been ripped out, and the only window was shattered. The room was cold and drafty and even more bare than the bedroom. The tile covered the floor and the walls, and it was dirty and stained and cracked, the scent of blood hanging in the air. Old blood. His curiosity was piqued again, but he couldn't do anything to satisfy it this time. All the snooping and sniffing in the world wouldn't tell him why this room reaked of Derek's blood.

He backed out slowly, similar to the way he had fled from the cellar, except he didn't have as far to go, since he had only taken a single step inside the doorway before the smell had hit him and stopped him in his tracks. He found that he didn't like the scent of Derek's blood. Derek's pain. It bothered him on a level he never thought possible. He slammed the door as soon as he was out of the way, back in Derek's den, but the scent of his blood still clung in Stiles' nostrils. Without thinking he went to the nest in the corner and squatted down, burrying his face in the bedding and inhaling the scent of Derek deeply, trying to expel the smell of his blood. He shifted onto his knees and held a blanket to his face, clutching it tightly in both hands as he inhaled.

As he realized what he was doing, he couldn't help feeling a bit like a perv, crouched on the floor and smelling Derek's bedclothes. What would Derek think if he saw what Stiles was doing? At that thought, he dropped the blanket and rose to his feet, leaving the room, sighing as the smell of burning wood hit him in the face again, like a slap. He glanced back into the bare room, sorely tempted to steal one of the Derek-scented blankets. But Derek would know it was him, would smell his scent and notice a blanket was missing, and wouldn't that be embarassing? With another forlorn sigh, he shut the door firmly behind him and climbed back down the steps.

He didn't know where Derek was, but figured he should just wait for him on the front steps until he arrived. He was surprised that Derek hadn't come looking for _him_, to talk about what had happened at school. But he was probably avoiding him, as always. He was probably planning on waiting until the full moon, when the whole pack would be there, to bring up the matter. The thought made Stiles' fists clench in anger. He was tired of being avoided, of Derek running away from him and what he was offering.

His head was reeling with everything he had just seen, smelled. He was trying to work things out in his mind, figure out the truth, but nothing would come. The scent of Derek was lingering around him, keeping him from focusing, keeping him thinking about how much he wanted to see him, to touch him, to kiss him. He growled in annoyance at his own traiterous body, inhibiting his ability to think clearly at the moment.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Derek sighed and shut the book he was reading, finished with it. He had waited all day. It was night now, the moon was up, and he could see it through the window. It was almost full, only a couple of days left. He hated himself for thinking about it as only a couple of days left until he'd see Stiles. _He_ was the one that was trying to avoid the infuriatingly tempting boy in the first place. Thinking thoughts such as those would not help him do it.

Where in the hell was the little nuisnace, anyway? He should have been home hours ago. Derek would have worried about him, worried that something had happened to him, if he didn't know Stiles so well. He considerd him to be the most capable of all the 'wolves in his pack, the one most in touch with his animal side. If he didn't know better he would swear that Stiles had been born a werewolf.

In other words, if he was hurt or in trouble, he wouldn't hesitate to call his pack to him, to howl out his need for help. Derek would be able to hear him anywhere in Beacon Hills, and so would the rest of the pack, if they took the time to listen.

_So, if he isn't hurt or in trouble, then where the hell is he?_

Maybe he was on a date. Would he be going out with a guy or a girl? He had seen the way Stiles looked at pretty girls. He knew Stiles wasn't gay, he just wasn't sure what the hell he _was_. He wanted Derek, that was for sure, as he made it readily apparent every time they were in the same room together. But Derek had never seen him look at another guy the way he looked at Derek. Had never seen him look at another guy at all with anything other than friendship, affection, or indifference.

The thought of Stiles on a date with another guy made Derek's blood boil. The thought of those intense brown eyes looking at some asshole the way they looked at Derek, the thought of him touching someone else... a low growl rose up in his chest, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control himself. Weird how the thought of Stiles with a girl didn't really bother him at all. Huh. Not that he had any right to be bothered by Stiles being on a date at all!

He clenched his fists and took a few deep breaths, doing the breathing excersises he had taught to Jackson, the ones he hadn't had to do since he was a kid going through his first shift. He wished Stiles were there, he was always able to calm him down. The thought bothered him, even as he took a deep breath and managed to pull himself together. He pushed it out of is mind. The fact that even thinking about Stiles calming him down had helped him gain his composure wasn't something he wanted to mull over right now.

He shook his head, as if to clear it, and glared at the moon, as if this was somehow her fault. He was tired of waiting for Stiles. He had been here, loitering in his room for hours. He would have texted him, but he had left his phone in his car earlier that day, after he'd gotten the video from Allison. He wasn't big on cell phones, and didn't feel the need to keep his with him constantly, like it was a part of him, like _some_ people liked to do. The only reason he had gotten one in the first place was because every memeber of his pack had one, and it was an easy way to communicate with them.

_Damn teenagers and their cell phones._

He stood up with a sigh, glancing at the moon for the time before remembering there was a digital clock on Stiles' nightstand. He wasn't in the burned out wreck of a house, there was actually a clock here to look at. He scoffed and glanced at it. He'd give Stiles ten more minutes. Crossing the room he went to stand by the window, telling himself it was because he was praparing to leave, not because he wanted to watch the driveway for a certain baby blue jeep.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Stiles was tired of waiting. He had been sitting on the steps for hours, with no sign of Derek. Where in the hell could he be, if his car was still here? The moon was climbing higher, and it was getting even colder by the minute. He briefly considered going back up to Derek's room and waiting for him there, where it was warmer, but decided against it. The room made him a little nervous, for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that it was Derek's territory, and he didn't have permission to be there.

He had tried to text Derek, but had heard a shrill beeping nearby and followed the sound, looking through the window of the camaro and seeing Derek's cell phone lying on the passenger's seat. He rolled his eyes and growled. _Damn stubborn Alpha_. How many times had he told him about his cell phone? What the hell was the point of having one if you didn't keep it with you?

He shoved his own phone back in his pocket with another growl. Then a thought occured to him. What if Derek had left his phone on purpose, because he wanted to be left alone. What if he didn't want Stiles there- _really_ didn't want him there, not just acting like he didn't- and Stiles was actually imposing on him and bothering him by being there? Maybe he was avoiding Stiles and the rest of his pack for a reason. The Alpha was entitled to his secrets and his privacy. Even if Stiles had so carelessly invaded that privacy a few hours ago by snooping in his room. Which he was kind of feeling bad about, now.

As he stood up from the steps with a sigh, and started walking back toward his car, he caught a faint whiff of something familiar and stopped in his tracks, nose twitching, trying to pin down the scent. It was Derek's scent. He turned towards it and realized it was Derek's trail, leading into the woods. He hesitated for only a second before following it.

Almost half an hour later, he was still following the trail, and he was only getting colder. He really hated this late season cold front. He realized the trail was headed into town and he rolled his eyes. All this for nothing. He should have just taken his jeep. He glanced at his phone and shook his head in disappointment at the time before starting back to his car at a jog, not worrying about going slow so he didn't lose the trail now. He got to the Jeep in less than half the time ot had taken to get away from it, and climbed in.

He wasn't going to sit around and wait for Derek any more. If he didn't want to see him, then Stiles would just go home. He would just wait and see him in a couple of days, on the full moon. As he sped off down the road, away from Beacon Hlls Preserve, absently flipping on the radio, he wondered if Derek wold come around at all on his birthday. It was only a couple weeks away, right before school let out for the summer. He would be the first of his friends to turn seventeen...except for Allison, who turned eighteen in a couple months.

One of his favorite songs came on the radio, and he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips as _She Wants Revenge _spilled out of his speakers. 'Tear You Apart' was a favorite of his, and he didn't know why he didn't have it on his Ipod. He made a mental note to add it later, when he got home and had time to get on his computer.

As he got to the end of the road, lightly bobbing his head with the music, he had a choice of turning right, and going back home, or left, and going into town. He hesitated for a moment before going left. He figured he'd get a bite to eat and go share dinner with his dad...and if he saw Derek in town, well, it wasn't like he was following him or anything, right? Just going for something to eat.

As he sat at a red light, waiting to turn onto the road that would lead to his usual burger joint, a familiar scent drifted to him on the wind, and he glanced around curiously. There. He knew that face. He pulled out of the line of cars, doing an illegal U-turn and pulling up to the curb.

"Hey!"

**"I was here and you weren't, now you're here and I'm not." My mom used to leave that note on poeple's doors when things like this happened, lol. Thoughts? Opinions? Suggestions? Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6: You're A Wolf

**Be patient! I will get to some Stiles/Derek interaction eventually. It's coming don't worry.**

**SONG: You're a Wolf - _Sea Wolf_**

"Hey!" Stiles called, "You need a ride or something?"

_Doesn't Danny have his own car? So what is he doing walking?_

Danny hesitated for a moment before approaching the jeep, a younger kid in tow that _had_ to be his little brother, because they looked almsot exactly alike despite a few minor differences. Like, the kid's long hair and lighter eyes.

"Uh...yeah, I guess we could use a ride," Danny said. "Car's in the shop getting some work done, and my mom won't let me use hers...so, yeah..."

Stiles leaned over and opened his door, trying to encourage a seemingly-hesitant Danny to get in the car. He climbed in after another moment's hesitation, and his brother hopped into the back. Stiles almost smirked. He didn't know why Danny didn't like him, but he thought the way he was acting was kind of amusing. Like he was scared Stiles was going to go all mass murderer on them or something.

The door shut and Stiles pulled the jeep back out onto the road.

"Where do you guys need to go?" he asked.

Silence. He looked at Danny, waiting for a response, and noticed that Danny was staring at him. _What the hell?_ He snapped his fingers in front of Danny's face.

"Helloooo? Anyone home?"

Danny frowned and looked away.

"What did you say?" he muttered to the dashboard.

"Where. Do. You guys. Need. To go?" Stiles repeated, enunciating his words and speaking slowly. Danny glared at him.

"I'm not a child or an idiot, Stiles, you don't need to talk to me like that."

Stiles sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. He was _so_ not in the mood for Danny's angsty attitude with him right now. He knew Danny didn't really like him, but he didn't know why, and he needed to get over himself.

"Okay," he said. "Whatever. Where do you need to go? I have almost a full tank of gas and time to kill."

Danny was staring at him again. He growled, low and quiet, annoyed. Danny's brow wrinkled slightly, and he got a weird look on his face.

"Umm...we were just shopping for our parent's anniversary. That's my little brother Bryan, by the way," he said jerking a thumb into the back. Stiles glanced in the rearview mirror at the kid, and recognized him. He was freshman at Beacon Hills high. "We were just headed to the mall," Danny continued. "You can drop us off there, we'll find our own way home."

Stiles scowled. "No, I'll give you a ride home, too. Like I said, plenty of time to kill...unless you don't want me to come with you..."

"No, you can come if you want, I guess..."

They lapsed into silence, which quickly turned awkward, and Stiles growled slightly again before turning the radio up. He hated awkward silences. 'Tear You Apart' had just ended, and he didn't like the song that came on after that, so he flipped through stations for a moment, not succeeding in finding anything good. With a sigh, he pulled his Ipod out of his pocket and plugged it in, not bothering to chose a song, just pressing the shuffle button.

'You're A Wolf' by Sea Wolf came on, and Stiles almost laughed at the ironic absurdity of it. It was a band that Derek had turned him onto when they had been talking about music, and he was surprised at how many of their songs that he liked. 'You're A Wolf' was his favorite. He shook his head and glanced at Danny, who, he noticed, was staring at him again. It was really starting to bug him. _What does he see?_ Why was he looking at Stiles like he was afraid he was going to eat him?

He tried to ignore it, but he could feel those piercing eyes on him for nearly the entire ride. Once they got to the mall, Stiles parked and started to get out, but Danny held up a hand.

"Wait." He looked at his little brother. "Meet us at the fountain. We need to talk for a minute."

Bryan nodded slowly with a slightly amused look on his face and climbed out of the jeep. He leaned in close to his brother before he left, and Stiles could hear him whisper, "Do you like him?" He almost laughed. Danny scowled, shaking his head, and gave him a little push. Bryan let out a laugh and scampered off, glancing back a few times with an amused expression.

Stiles waited, but Danny just sat there in silence, as if trying to collect his thoughts. But Stiles wasn't known for his patience, especially when his curiosity was beating him upside the head to find out what this was about. Ten seconds later, he was twitching in his seat.

"What, Danny? _What_?" he finally exploded.

Danny sighed, long and angsty, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"What- have you-" he stopped and sighed once more, then began again. "What's wrong with Jackson? He's been acting...weird lately..."

_Shit._ How was he supposed to deal with this?

"Well, I dunno, Danny, he's _your_ friend, not mine." Wrong thing to say. Danny scowled and huffed, crossing his arms. God this kid was touchy!

"Well, he's _supposed_ to be my friend, but lately, he won't talk to me, won't tell me anything. And don't think I haven't noticed that he's been being all buddy-buddy with you and Scott. The five of you are, like, insepparable now. What the hell is that about?" Danny sounded hurt and angry. Stiles didn't know what to say to him, but this was the most he had ever heard Danny speak, especially to him. Before he could open his mouth and spew some meaningless gibberish that was meant to distract him, Danny was speaking again. "I know there's something weird going on. I've been...seeing things...noticing things...with all of you. What is it, Stiles?" he leaned forward in his seat, closer to Stiles' face. "What's going on? _Tell me_." His eyes were slightly wild, and he sounded desperate. Stiles knew that feeling. He felt like he was loosing his best friend. That was never a nice feeling.

Stiles _really_ didn't know what he was supposed to do here. He would've called Derek and asked him, but the Alpha _didn't have his fucking cell phone! _He made a mental note to bitch him out about that later. He had to say something to Danny. _Something_. He couldn't stand that look in his eyes, and he knew it too well. He had seen that same look in the mirror before, when all this had first started, when Scott had first been bitten, when he thought he was going to lose his friend. It was different, of course. He knew about the werewolves, and was worried about his friend dying, or being recruited into some sick and twisted pack by a psychotic alpha, or losing control and killing him, or someone else. Danny was completely in the dark. He had no idea he had bigger things to worry about than he and Jackson not spending time together...

Stiles closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the seat, thinking. How was he supposed to go about this? He wished he hadn't offered Danny a ride. Maybe he would've taken his concerns about Jackson to Scott or one of the others instead, since he seemed to like them more. With a growl, he opened his eyes and looked at Danny...who was looking at him wild-eyed again.

"That's another thing, right there!" Danny said, pointing at him. "Those growls! I've noticed Jackson doing them...noticed all of you doing them! You sound like fucking animals or something! What the fuck, Stiles?" Danny sounded like he was on the verge of hysterics. Stiles grabbed his forearm in a rough grip, grounding him, turning his body to face other boy.

"Danny, breathe. Calm down." Danny obediently took a few deep breaths.

"Good. Now, you're prolly gonna be mad, but I can't tell you anything." Danny started to open his mouth and protest, but Stiles held up a hand and interrupted. "Shut up and listen, will you? I can't tell you anything, _right now_. But I may just be able to get Jackson to do it...I have to talk to someone first, but I'm not making any promises. I'll see what I can do. Deal?"

Danny was frowning, but he nodded.

"And, Danny, don't say anything about this to anyone else. Not even your brother. Trust me. I'll talk to everyone tomorrow and see where it goes. Just be patient, okay?"

Danny nodded again, taking another deep breath.

"Here, give me your cell phone." Danny handed it over wordlessly without question. Stiles put his number in Danny's contacts. "I'm gonna go get something to eat. You guys do your shopping, then call me back when you need a ride home, okay?" Danny nodded and got out of the car. He still seemed upset, and it bothered Stiles. He called to him as he shut the door, and Danny turned around expectantly.

"It's gonna be okay, man. Trust me, Jackson is still your best friend. He's just going through some stuff right now and...well...the four of us understand, so we're trying to help him. It's gonna work out, alright?" Danny nodded with a muttered thanks and Stiles watched him approach the mall and disappear inside. He let out a deep breath and scrubbed his face again.

He wasn't sure if telling Danny about the werewolves would be a good idea, but what choice did they have? It sounded like the pack needed to be more careful at school from now on, if Danny was noticing things. Had anyone else noticed anything? He executed a full body shake, as if trying to shake off the coversatiion that had happened a few minutes ago.

He started the car, turning off his Ipod, and pulled out of the lot after a moment. He pulled out his cell phone and called Derek's phone anyway, knowing he wouldn't answer. The electronic voice told him what number he had contacted, and to leave a message after the beep. How like Derek to not have a recorded message. He would have to snatch his phone and record one for him, since he knew he wouldn't be able to convince Derek to do it. He left a message and hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket. Things had just gotten a hell of alot more complicated.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Derek had been walking for almost an hour when the burnt-wood scent of his house drifted to him on the wind. He hadn't taken his car because he'd wanted to walk and enjoy the late-season cold front. He loved the cold, and was almost sad that summer was starting. Or, he would have been, if it didn't also mean more time with his pack. He had a few things planned he hoped they would enjoy. Things that involved escaping Beacon Hills for awhile.

If he hadn't found a pack here, friendship and a home, he would have been gone the second his uncle's heart had stopped beating, out of Beacon Hills and the painful memories it held. But instead he was still here, squatting in the abandoned and dilapidated house that was the crux of all his bad memories. It's not like he had anywhere else to go. He had tried renting an apartment, but no one would rent to him. It seemed that he was still viewed as a dangerous psychotic killer, even though he had been exonerated of all charges. _Isn't that just fucking lovely?_

Even the motels wouldn't rent him a room. No one wanted anything to do with him, and the smart thing to do, the thing most people would have done, would be to get the hell out of this hateful town. But he couldn't. This was where his pack was. His only family. He was all alone in the world without them. No matter how damn irritating and aggravating they had a tendency to be. No matter how much he pushed them away and tried not to lean on them.

So, as a result, he lived in the only place that would accept him. The old house that clung to him, refusing to let him go, constantly blaming him for the state it was in and the ghosts that haunted it. He had to bathe in the lake and eat things that had to be cooked on the grill Stiles had brought him, or not at all. He was lucky the stores and restaraunts even serviced him. He only had good homecooked meals once a month, on full moons, when his pack was around. Any other time he usually just ate whatever he could get that didn't need cooked, like chips or cookies or dry cereal or fast food. When he needed protein he hunted in his wolf form and ate it raw. He didn't see the point of cooking a meal on the grill for just himself, so he ate junk food.

Maybe if his pack was around more often than just once a month he'd have more of a reason to cook meals. But they seemed to hate the old abandoned property as much as he did, and when he wanted to see them he had to go to them. They seemed fine with the way things were, though, content to keep in touch with their stupid phones, as if that was anything similar to seeing one another face to face and having skin on skin contact. As far as he understood, they didn't see much of eachother, either, except passing in the halls at school, and at lacrosse practice, for the boys. Lydia and Jackson were together all the time, but that was nothing new. Same for Scott and Allison. Stiles was usually left by himself.

_Stiles._

As Derek neared his house, he caught the familiar scent of the boy, fresh, and almost laughed out loud. _Motherfucker_. He had been waiting for Stiles in his room while Stiles had been here.

He heard an insistent beep as he passed his car and paused for a moment, looking at it curiously before he remembered that he had left his phone on the passenger's seat. He opened the door and retrieved his phone, glancing at it to see that he had two missed calls and a voicemail, all from Stiles. The voicemail had been left less than five minutes ago. He flipped open his cheap prepaid phone and listened to the message as he approached the house. The scent of Stiles was strongest in the porch, on the steps, and he sat on the same stairs Stiles had been sitting on just a couple hours ago while the message played.

_'Derek...'_

The one word held so much. He sounded stressed out and bothered. There also seemed to be a bit of longing in his voice, need, There was a long pause, and a sigh, and Derek could just imagine Stiles scrubbing his hands over his face.

_'...I think we have a problem. I just talked to Jackson's best friend, Danny, and he's asking alot of questions. He's been noticing things...I guess we're not being careful enough. He wants answers. I told him he'd have to be patient. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to talk to you first. Call me back when you...can...'_

Derek cursed as he flipped his phone closed. Well then, this was a damn annoying complication. But not one he didn't really expect, though, with the trouble Jackson was having with control, and Scott being almost as bad. The girls and Stiles were the only ones that seemed to have full control. He was beginning to think that Jackson was fucking hopeless. Scott had gotten better, with their training, though he still had issues. Jackson on the other hand...

Well, as long as he and Lydia stayed glued to each other's side, it would be okay. Lydia could keep him under control. Of course, the smaller flashes of anger, the ones that made his eyes glow and made him growl, those were harder to keep under wraps. It wasn't so surprising that his 'best friend' had noticed. Derek just wondered if anyone else had noticed anything, too. They might just have to tell this Danny kid what was going on. Derek was sure he could threaten him into silence. He just hated having to destroy someone's innocence with a revelation like "there are werewolves in the world and some of them are dangerous killers who like to chow on humans." The kid would be looking over his shoulder in fear for the rest of his life.

Derek glanced up at the moon. Two days left until it was completely full. Should he wait and bring up this matter tomorrow when they were all together for the pre-full-moon feast? Should he call the pack to discuss it now? Should he just call Stiles and talk about it with him? Stiles was his head Beta, and the one he went to when he needed to discuss pack matters and get an intelligent opinion. Or, he _would_ be, if he wasn't always trying to fucking seduce him.

He growled and squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to stop thinking about Stiles. Which might be a little easier if the smell of him wasn't lingering, teasing him, mocking him. He stood up abruptly from his spot on the steps, intending to go inside and escape the scent. But the smell didn't go away. It led up the stairs and to the door of his room. A low growl rose up in Derek's throat. The little shit had actually gone into his _den_? Derek _knew_ he knew better. So what the fuck? He knew he could have smelled that Derek wasn't in the house. Why was he purposefully invading the Alpha's territory? Was he _trying_ to piss him off?

He pushed open the door with a sense of dread. Stiles' scent was everywhere. He rushed to the bathroom door, pushing it open, already knowing what he would find. Stiles' scent was on the door and inside. He groaned and pulled the door closed. He could only imagine what he was thinking. No matter how much he scrubbed the tiles, the scent of his blood still lingered from all the times it had been spilled there. It would have been alot worse if it was on the wooden floor. The scent and stains would never fade. That was why he had chosen the fully tiled bathroom, to keep the scent at the bare minimum.

He had been having to use the room more and more lately, with the full moon approaching. Pain was the only thing that kept him under control any more, since he had no mate to soothe his rage, like most Alpha's did. Like an Alpha was _supposed_ to. He needed it the most when he woke up in the middle of the night, from one of his nightmares, eyes burning red and nails and teeth lengthening, the urge to kill trembling in every line of his body. He had just enough of himself left that he knew it wasn't a good thing, and he would force himself into the bathroom, inflicting as much pain as he needed to until he was back under control. By then the floor was usually stained crimson and slick enough to slip on. But it was okay. Wounds healed, pain went away. As long as it helped him keep control, he could endure. As long as he was able to retain enough of a sense of self that he _could_ inflict the pain.

The thought that maybe one night he would lose his mind enough that he wouldn't remember himself scared the living hell out of him. He would hunt and kill and feed on a human, and then he would have the hunters on his ass. They were already watching him like a hawk, and he knew if he stepped one toe out of line they would be all over him. Then where would his pack be, with no Alpha?

Somehow, he knew that if that happened, Stiles would look after them. He woudn't be an Alpha, of course, because the only way to be Alpha was if you killed your way into the position, were born into it, if it was passed down, or if the power was freely given. Stiles was dominant, just not _that_ dominant. But he knew Stiles would take care of his friends, keep them in line and in control. That was some consolation, at least.

He shut the door of the bathroom with a sigh. What was he going to tell Stiles when he asked about it? Because the curious little bastard would _definitely_ be asking questions, it would go against his nature not to. He had to know everything. Derek smiled fondly before he caught himself. He was supposed to be mad at him!

He let out a growling groan. It was so hard to stay mad at him, even when he wasn't there giving Derek the puppy dog eyes and pouting, or saying something ridiculous and making him want to laugh, or giving him that come-fuck-me look...

He took a deep breath, but it didn't help, because the smell of Stiles was everywhere. He couldn't see him tonight, or even talk to him. So, no dealing with the problems tonight. He'd wait until tomorrow, when the pack came over for the pre-full-moon feast. He couldn't deal with seeing Stiles right now. He didn't know whether he wanted to throw him through the wall or fuck him through it. Maybe both.

He went over to the window and pulled it open wide, trying to get the room to air out, to get rid of the smell of Stiles. It would be cold, but Derek didn't mind. He pulled his shirt off and decided to turn in early. There was nothing better to do.

As he neared his 'bed', he realized the smell was getting stronger, and he growled in annoyance. What the hell did he do, lay in his fucking bed? He lowered himself to the blankets and couldn't help the groan that slipped out. The blankets positively reeked of Stiles. God, that kid was gonna be the death of him.

**Sorry to disappoint anyone who thought it was Derek walking down the street :D**

**Let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7: Wicked Blood

**Thanks to everyone who has continued to read my fic, and leave reviews! I love you all so much! Especially MimeMoe, for always giving great and helpful reviews. They are very ego-boosting and keep me wanting to update quickly so I can see what you'll say next. It always makes me giddy :) and, of course, Dereksgirl24, who continues to review every single chapter, and who is now a friend on Twitter! and, last but not least, a shout out to Red Beard the Pirate. I love you!**

**I have had a couple of people PM me about the songs I choose...The next chapter will not be named after **_**Sea Wolf**_**, but expect a few more from them before the fic is over. I love their songs and I am making Derek and Stiles love their songs, too :) I have a playlist soundtrack made up for this fic, but I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to share it...**

**I just wanted to mention that I'm sorry if Stiles is a little OOC. I hope that the fact that he is a werewolf now explains that a little. Even so, I tried to stick with the character as much as possible, even if the whole inner monologue thing isn't very Stiles-y. I must admit, I have an easier time with Derek than with any of the other characters. He is more like the kind of character I tend to write as.**

**Anyway, without further ado, here is chapter seven. Hope you like!**

**SONG: Wicked Blood - _Sea Wolf_**

Stiles was sitting in his father's police cruiser, feet propped on the dash, devouring buckets of curly fries and trying to ignore the weird looks his dad was giving him about his eating habits. Stiles had always been a messy eater, and he had always had an astronomically high metabolism, but it had gotten even more intense the past few months. Now, instead of one bucket of curly fries, he ate three. Instead of three burgers, he ate six. And he would probably still go home and eat some cereal and chips and leftover lasagna later.

As he polished off his last bucket of fries, he looked over at his dad, who had been done with his salad and parfait for a few minutes already and was staring at him as if head grown three heads.

"What?" he mumbled, dreading the answer. His dad scoffed and shook his head.

"I know you're a growing kid, but damn, son! What's gotten into you lately? You're gonna wind up eating us out of house and home!"

Stiles chuckled and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, dislodging the crumbs from the corners of his mouth.

"Just been going through some changes recently, dad, that's all. You know, boy stuff, growing up, and all that...I need the energy..." he trailed off and heard his dad laugh.

"Yeah, I've noticed you've put on some muscle mass there, buddy. What, have you been working out, training for lacrosse and all that?"

Stiles almost laughed, too. Lacrosse was the last thing on his mind nowadays.

"Yeah, exactly, lacrosse, working out," he said, though. "And I have to eat alot to gain muscle. Sooooo..."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Stiles, but isn't it alot of _protein_ you're supposed to be eatiing to gain muscle? Not junk food?"

Stiles shrugged, picking a piece of fry off of his lap where it had fallen in his feeding frenzy, and popped it into his mouth. "Yeah, yeah, whatever...You're just jealous because you're not allowed to eat curly fries."

His dad rolled his eyes, but didn't deny it, and Stiles smirked.

They lapsed into a semi-comfortable, semi-awkward silence. Then his dad asked him something he'd hoped he wouldn't have to hear.

"So, are there any girls at school you have your eye on? What about that Jessy girl you took out last weekend? How did that go?"

Stiles sighed. He should have known this was coming.

"It was Jenny, dad. And it didn't go well."

His dad looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for more, but Stiles avoided his gaze, hunting around for more pieces of fry that had been dropped. He found a couple on the seat between his legs and devoured them. He was still hungry, and already daydreaming about the lasagna in the fridge at home.

"Weeeell?" His dad prompted. "What went wrong? Not pretty enough for you?" he laughed and Stiles rolled his eyes. His dad had become all but obsessed with his son's love life lately. Maybe it was because he actually _had_ one now. Stiles had been on more dates in the past few months than he would have ever dreamed possible. But none of the girls were ever right. They were too slutty, too shallow, too prudish, too stupid, too loud, too quiet, too intense...always too _something. _That wasn't to say that he hadn't had fun with a few of them. He was long past being a virgin now.

A few girls had even been up for sex, but it wasn't like he had to try very hard. Most of them pretended they just wanted to make out in his jeep, and one thing usually led to another. Not that he had used them or anything. In his opinion, it was more like they had been the ones to use him. He wasn't complaining, since he always had fun, but he wasn't really in a place right now that he could handle a serious relationship anyway. Especially not with a fragile human girl. And the only she wolves he knew of were taken.

His thoughts strayed to Derek and he almost laughed out loud at the connection his messed up brain had made. Derek, a werewolf-girl. He snickered. Then he noticed his dad giving him a strange look and went back over what he had asked him. _Oh, yeah, what went wrong with Jenny._

"Nothing went wrong exactly, it was just- she just- I- we- we didn't click, that's all..."

Which was mostly the truth. They had fun at the movies together, went and got a burger, and then they tried to talk, but didn't seem to have much in common. Somehow they had ended up in the back of Stiles' jeep, and they spent an hour making out, then she had surprised him with a blow job. It had just kind of happened. Of course, he had helped matters along a little, with a hand under her skirt, but he hadn't been the one to urge her to go down on him. That had been entirely her decision. Then he dropped her off at her house, and ever since then she had been avoiding him at school. He didn't know why. Didn't know if he had done something wrong or what. He thought maybe she was embarassed at herself, and felt a little bad about it, but whatever, she was the one who had initiated everything in the fisrt place, the one who had kissed him first, and the one who had nudged his hand under her shirt _and_ skirt.

"So, not the girl for you, then?" his dad asked carefully. Stiles gave him a look.

"_Definitely _not." His dad laughed.

Then a call came in on the radio. Stiles reached for it out of habit, as always, and his dad slapped his hand away.

"Are you the Sherriff, huh? I didn't think so." He was mock-glaring at Stiles and fighting a smirk as he grabbed the radio, inquiring as to what the problem was. Convenience store robbery, nothing too exciting. Stiles sighed.

"I'll see you at home later, 'kay dad?" he asked, tossing his trash from dinner on the floor and opening the door. The sherriff glanced at the mess on his floor and sighed, then looked at Stiles curiously.

"Usually you're dyng to come on a ride-along. What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Just tired. Homework. Hungry. Wanna relax. Nothing special."

His dad scowled.

"Hungry? You just ate-"

"I know, I know! Tell me about it! I'll see you later. Love you dad. Be careful!" He shut the door before his dad could say anything else, making his way back to his own car, which was parked behind the burger joint the cruiser was sitting in front of.

Just as he opened the door and climbed in, his phone rang. He rolled his eyes, thinking it was going to be his dad calling to bitch him out about eating all the food in the house again, then he glanced at the screen. Danny.

"Hello?"

_"Stiles? Hey, uh, we're...done at the mall...if you still feel like giving us a ride, ya know..."_

"Shut up, Danny, I already told you I'd give you a ride. I'll be there in a few. Be waiting outside." He pressed the end button and tossed his phone on the passenger's seat.

It took him less than five minutes to get to the mall, and Danny and Bryan were waiting outside like he'd told them to, sitting on a bench near the mall entrance. He pulled up to the curb, but they were talking and didn't notice him, so he beeped his horn and opened the passneger door, snatching his phone off the seat and sticking it in the compartment underneath the stereo. He was still hoping Derek would call, even though it had been almost two hours since he'd left the message.

Danny jerked his head up at the honking horn, then nudged his brother, and the two of them made their way to the jeep and got in. Danny kept looking at Stiles weirdly, and it was getting on his nerves again. He didn't say anything, and tried not to growl. Danny seemed nervous.

He drove to Danny's house in silence. There was no conversation. Just the music. Another_ Sea Wolf_ song. He seemed to be playing them alot lately. This one was called 'Wicked Blood'.

As he pulled up to Danny's house and parked, leaving the motor running, Bryan scrambled out of the car, calling out a swift farewell over his shoulder. Stiles waved vaguely at the retreating back. Danny just sat there, staring at him. He was really tired of that look.

"Will you _stop_ fucking looking at me like that? Geez!"

Danny looked away quickly, and Stiles could smell the faint trace of fear in the air. He didn't know how much Danny had put together in his head, but that trace of fear let him know enough.

It was a Friday night. The pack would be meeting tomorrow, and this shit with Danny would be discussed then. Until then, he had to make sure Danny kept his mouth shut about everything he thought he knew. He leaned in close, and Danny backed away, back hitting the door of the jeep.

"Don't forget what I told you about keeping your mouth shut, Danny-boy," he smiled in a way that he knew looked slightly aggressive. "Understand?"

Danny nodded frantically, hand groping for the door handle and eyes locked on Stiles. Stiles leaned over him and opened it for him, since he seemed to be having so much trouble.

"See you at school on Tuseday...maybe before that, depending on what's decided. Remember what I told you..."

Danny nodded again and leapt from the jeep, slamming the door hard in his eagerness to escape.

"Hey! Easy on my baby!" Stiles barked, but Danny didn't even turn around, fleeing into the house. Stiles could hear the lock click softly into place, and he laughed to himself as he sped away.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Derek lay in his bed, eyes closed but wide awake. He was trying his best to drift to sleep, but couldn't do it with the smell of Stiles all around him. Damn kid. Always snooping and sticking his nose in where it didn't belong.

The smell was intoxicating and delicious, even when it was just his normal scent, not laced with arousal. Derek's hand twitched with the urge to stroke down his body and encircle his cock in a hard grip. It had been weeks since he had jacked off to the thought of Stiles, and he had told himself he wasn't going to do it any more. Beyond the brief satisfaction, it didn't help anything, it only made him want the kid more.

So he resisted his urge, curling his hand into a tight fist, and shifted positions, trying to get more comfortable in the hopes that it would help him get to sleep. But his new position just buried his face in the blanket. The blanket that smelled like Stiles the most. He groaned and rolled back over onto his back. He was beginning to see that his plans for sleep were not going to happen any time soon. Even with the window open, the scent was unbearably thick.

He opened his eyes and sighed deeply. Maybe if he called him, talked to him... It didn't have to be anything personal, it could just be about the Danny-situation. He could handle that. Couldn't he? Maybe it would help ease his mind, ease his need...

He sat up and grabbed his phone off the top of the dresser, where he had tossed it earlier. Flipping it open, he stared at the blank blue screen for a moment, considering whether or not it was a good idea. Then he said, "fuck it", dialing a number he knew so well that he didn't need to check his contacts to find it.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Stiles was just pulling up into his driveway when his phone started vibrating furiously, a moment before "Animals', by _Nickelback_, rang through his car. He snatched his phone from it's place in the compartment under the stereo. He knew that ring. That stupid ring that Scott had programmed into his phone for when Derek called. The dumb song he hadn't gotten around to changing yet. He knew it, he just didn't think he'd be hearing it tonight.

Glancing at the screen- just to make sure- he took a deep breath before answering.

"Hello?"

As if he didn't already know who it was. There was silence on the other end, then a swift breath.

_"Stiles. What's the problem?"_

God his voice sounded so good, even tinny and filtered through the phone. Even gruff and all-business. He almost didn't remember what Derek was asking him about for a second. _Oh, yeah, Danny. _He sighed, getting annoyed and wishing this call could be about something else, anything else.

"What do you mean, 'what's the problem'? Didn't you listen to the message?" He demanded, voice snappish and hard. He heard a low rumbling growl on the other end.

_"Don't you take that tone with me,"_ Derek snarled.

Stiles winced and closed his eyes.

"Sorry. Sorry. It's just..." he sighed. "I didn't know what I was supposed to say to Danny. I don't know if I said the right thing..."

Derek took a deep breath, as if expecting the worst.

_"What, EXACTLY, did you say to him?"_

Stiles relayed the entire car ride, reaction for reaction and word for word, including the part about Bryan asking Danny if he liked him. He smiled when he heard Derek snicker every now and then. When he was done, Derek sighed, long and deep. Stiles tensed at the noise. He wasn't sure if it was a relieved sigh or a 'you're-in-trouble' sigh. Derek wasn't saying anything, and Stiles couldn't be patient.

"Well? Did I do good? Did I say the right thing? Are you mad?"

He heard Derek make a noise that could have been a chuckle, but that was impossible. It must have been some sort of choked-off growl.

_"Yeah, Stiles. Yeah, you did good..."_

Stiles beamed, elated that Derek approved, that he had done the right thing and made his Alpha proud.

"So, what are we gonna do? Are we gonna tell him?"

Derek growled.

_"Jackson has been careless..."_ he paused, and there was a long stretch of silence. _"Stiles? What do YOU think we should do?"_

Stiles breath hitched, catching in his throat. Derek was actually asking his opinion.

"Ummmm. I don't think we have a choice _but_ to tell him, honestly. I think he's already figured most of it out. You should have seen the way he was looking at me... like I was about to to eat him or something. I don't know, but I think he could keep his mouth shut. Especially if it involves Jackson...But, it's your call, of course." Stiles fell silent, waiting to see what Derek would say, anxious once more, hoping he had said what Derek wanted to hear. The other line was silent for so long that Stiles would have thought he had hung up the phone if he couldn't hear him breathing. He started twitching, squiriming in his seat, patience wearing thin. Just before he blew up, Derek spoke.

_"You're sure about Danny? About him being able to keep his mouth shut?"_

Stiles sighed. He didn't know if he was sure. It was just a best guess. He was hoping. He didn't want all of this to rely on what he thought, though, since it was the Alpha that should be making the final decision.

"I'm not completely sure, no. I don't know Danny that well...but I do know how much he cares about Jackson. They're like...me and Scott...before the whole werewolf-thing, anyway...if one of us were gay...and the other was a raging asshole..."

He heard Derek chuckle, and this time he was sure that's what it was.

"Anyway! The point is, they've known each other since they were kids and they're best friends. I don't think he'd betray Jackson...but you never know what a person will do when they're scared enough..."

Derek sighed, and Stiles could hear the sound of skin against skin, as if he was rubbing a hand over his face. Or maybe rubbing a hand somewhere else. Stiles closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the head rest of the seat, images of Derek touching himself dancing through his mind.

_"I think you're right. I don't think we have a choice. I just hope the kid knows how to keep his mouth shut. We'll talk about it with everyone else tomorrow, see what Jackson has to say for himself."_

Stiles nodded in agreement, even though he knew Derek couldn't see him do it.

_"So, Stiles, why did you pick him up in the first place?"_

Derek's voice had a slightly hard edge to it that Stiles didn't understand.

"I-I dunno. I mean, it was cold, and he and his brother were walking-"

_"So?"_

Stiles scowled. If he didn't know any better, he would say Derek was jealous. But that was preposterous wasn't it? Maybe he was just mad because they wouldn't be having this problem if Stiles hadn't given Danny a ride in the first place. Now he was feeling guilty. Did Derek blame him for this? Was he angry at him?

"I'm sorry," he said, voice small and sad sounding. He hated it. He cleared his throat and and tried to make his voice sound stronger. "I didn't mean to start anything. I was just trying to help out a-a teamate." He had almost called Danny a friend. But that wasn't really right. He had never considered Danny a friend before. They had been going to the same school most of their lives, but they hardly knew anything personal about each other.

He heard a small groan fom the other end of the line. The noise sounded exasperated and maybe a wee bit guilty.

_"It's not your fault, Stiles. That's not what I was trying to say, damn it.!"_

Stiles coulnd't help but feel a little relieved. But, if Derek wasn't mad at him, then what...

"So...what _were_ you trying to say, Der?"

All was silent on the other line. He could barely even hear Derek breathing any more. He smiled. That _was_ jealousy he had detected in his Alpha's voice. Somehow, that felt like a victory. Derek had to know Stiles had been in his house earlier, and he wondered why he hadn't brought up the fact that he had been in his room. Maybe he was trying to avoid the conversation, avoid the inevitable questions about the permeating scent of blood in the small tiled room. Those questions were already forming in Stiles' mind, in his mouth, and he ached to spit them out and get the answers he was craving. But, somehow, he managed to hold back. That was a conversation for another time, another day. Tomorrow perhaps...

Derek still hadn't spoken, and Stiles smiled again, a deliciously devious plan forming in his sly little mind. He got out of the car, grabbing his back pack from the back, and went into his house. The phone was still at his ear, and the two of them were still silent, listening to each other's steady breathing. He climbed up the staircase and peeked into his dad's room, but he wasn't there. If he wasn't home now, it would probably still be a couple more hours until he was finished at work.

As he neared the door to his room, a very faint scent caught his attention. So faint he couldn't quite make it out, but very familar...

And then he opened his door, and he couldn't help the little moan that left his mouth.

"Oh, _god_, Der," he rumbled, an aroused growl rising in his chest. He heard the little hitch in Derek's breathing, and it felt like yet another victory. The smell of his Alpha filled his room, and after he had been having such naughty thoughts about him...it was almost too much to handle.

_"What?"_ Derek growled, voice sounding slightly hoarse.

"Mmmm, you smell so good..." Stiles tossed his back pack on the floor next to his desk and pulled his shirt off over his head, collapsing on his bed, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. He shimmied out of his jeans and kicked them to the floor as well. He left the lights off in his room, since the moonlight streaming through the gap in the curtains was just enough light to see by.

He noticed one of his books out of place on his nightstand and smiled ruefully. Derek must have sat in his room all day reading. He could fucking kick himself for being so stupid. Derek was here in his room the whole damn time he was sitting on the steps if that old house, waiting for him. God, how dumb could one guy be?

If he had just gotten out of his car when he had come home after school. Damn it! He could just imagine the things that he and Derek could have gotten up to. Images flashed through his head and he slid a hand down his bare stomach, palming his slowly-hardening cock through his boxers. He let out a breathy sigh, slightly surprised that Derek was even still on the line, that he hadn't hung up already.

"Fuck, Derek...I wish I would have come home earlier and found you in my room...god, I want you..." he let a little groan slip out again, hand tightening around himself. He didn't miss the sound of Derek's breath changing, quickening, and he could even hear his heartbeat speed up. He smiled slightly, eyes closing as he imagined Derek there with him, imagined that it was Derek's hand instead of his own touching him.

He wondered if Derek would play along, would stay on the phone. So far all he was getting was silence and labored breathing, but that was better than straight hanging up. He wondered if he should take things further, if he should say anything more, or of he should wait for Derek to say something.

Derek spoke before he could make the decision.

_"Stiles,"_ his name was nearly a groan, and the sound of it made his own breath quicken. _"What are you doing?"_

He bit his lip and hummed a little in his throat. He knew what Derek meant, but decided to take it a different way.

"I'm touching myself, Derek. I'm rubbing my cock and imagining it's you doing it..." His voice was low and quiet and breathy, and he was trembling with anticipation at how Derek was going to react. He half expected him to just hang up. But then he heard a noise. It sounded like a muffled groan, and he smiled again, eyes heavy-lidded. Another victory. Derek wasn't nearly as stoic and unshakeable as he pretended to be.

_"That's not what I fucking meant, and you know it, damn it!"_

His tone sounded like he was trying to be stern and angry, but it wasn't working. His voice held a wild edge to it, like he was trying to keep control and not doing a very good job. Stiles decided to act as if he hadn't spoken.

"God, Derek, I'm so hard for you. Ungh...I wish you were here right now, so I could make you as hard as I am...I wanna taste your cock, Der. I want you in my mouth. Fuck, I wanna make you come, Derek..." he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tighter as he pulled his boxers down his thighs. His dick was throbbing and weeping precome, and he swirled the liquid over the head with his thumb, hissing at how good it felt.

He heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper from the other end of the phone, and it made his dick jerk as his arousal level shot up even higher, if that were possible.

"Do you want me to do that, Derek? Do you want me to suck your dick until you come down my throat? I'd swallow it all, Der, I bet you taste so fuckin' good..."

He had a vague thought in the back of his brain that maybe he should shut up, that maybe he was taking this too far...and then he heard Derek's moan, not muffled this time, and he knew he was saying just the right thing. He knew he should keep going.

"Was that a yes? I need to hear it, Derek. Tell me that's what you want, too. Oh, god, please..." he started stroking his cock rythmically, running his fingers roughly over the head, and along the underside of it where it was most sensitive, stroking under the thick ridge of flesh around the top, a needy moan breaking free. If he imagined hard enough, he could make himself believe that it was Derek doing this to him. Maybe if he heard his voice, if he heard him say how much he wanted it...

"My mouth is watering, imagining the taste of you, imagining how hot and hard you would be in my mouth...mmmm...tell me that's what you want too, c'mon..."

He was getting close now, and his pumps started to quicken, getting a little more erratic. If he could just hear Derek's voice, he knew it would push him over the edge. In his desperation and need he lost control a little. He knew his heavy-lidded eyes were probably glowing blue and gold, because he felt like the wolf was just under his skin, wanting to break free. He bit his lip hard, not realizing his mistake until a sharp canine sliced the thin skin. He licked at the blood, sucked his tembling bottom lip into his mouth, and the flavor of it somehow put him so close to the edge he felt like he was going to explode. He whimpered.

"Please, Derek, please...ungh...please..." So close, so close...

He heard a long drawn out groan from the other end of the line, and his whole body clenched at the sound, muscles trembling and jumping, hips pumping, back arching off the bed. He whimpered again, needy and breathlessly begging.

_"Fuck, yes! Oh god, Stiles, yes, that's what I want, too...I want to shove my cock in your mouth and shoot my load down your throat...god...come for me, Stiles..."_

And that was all it took. Stiles moaned Derek's name as he came, painting his hand and stomach and chest in streams of white, breath shuddering out as he clutched at the phone desperately with his other hand, trying to keep it from slipping out of his boneless grip.

He could hear Derek's growling, whimpering noises on the other line and knew he was pleasuring himself, too. Stiles kept talking to him, whispering filthy things, describing what he wanted to do to him, and it wasn't long before Derek was coming, too, with muffled groans. Stiles wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he heard Derek moan his name. It had been muffled well, though, so he wasn't entirely positve. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

As he lay there in his bed, body coming down from the incredible orgasm he hadn't known he could have from just talking on the phone, he listened to the sound of Derek's labored breathing, and he felt content. It would have been perfect if Derek was actually there with him, letting him do all the things he had described, but, well, you take what you can get. He just knew Derek was going to ruin it, though. Knew he was going to say something, or do something, or just hang up... It was the way Derek was when it came to Stiles, always running away when things got too intense, when emotions got too high, when he started to lose himself in the pleasure that Stiles offered him. Only, this time, he had actually succeeded in giving him pleasure, even if hadn't been by his own hand, exactly. This was a sure victory, one that Stiles wouldn't forget.

Who would have thought that just a little dirty talk would have Derek coming undone and giving into him? He would remember that little trick, and he would be using against his Alpha in the future, that was for sure. Stiles wasn't shy, he had no problem with dirty talk. Especially when it got him what he wanted, and what he knew Derek wanted, even if he wouldn't admit to it.

He decided to push a little, see how far he could get, and he smiled, knowing it probably wouldn't end well.

"So...Derek...you wanna come over? My window's unlocked for you, as always. I can do all those things I promised you. I'll-"

_"GOODNIGHT, Stiles..."_

He heard the little break as Derek ended the call, and he sighed, a wry grin spreading across his lips. He should have known better. But, really, he couldn't manage to summon up any sort of regret. He'd had to try, right? He'd have been a coward not to. And no one had ever accused Stiles of being a coward.

He pressed the end button and placed his phone on top of the stack of books on his nightstand. Reaching to the floor, he snatched the shirt he had been wearing earlier, using ot to wipe off the mess all over himself before tossing it at his hamper and missing. He tucked himself back into his boxers and sighed. Well, it was better than nothing. It was the farthest he had ever gotten with Derek, in a way. It was _definetly_ a victory, no matter how small.

He stretched, moaning a little as his muscles unkinked and relaxed. He rolled over, pulling a pillow under his head, and yanked the throw blanket that had gotten scrunched up against the wall over his body, not bothering to climb under his sheets and comforter. He was more tired than he had thought, and wasn't in the mood for a shower tonight, so he didn't want to get his clean sheets dirty all over again. He'd take one in the morning, before he went to Derek's house. He was even more ravenously hungry than he had been before, but figured that could wait until morning as well, since his body's need for sleep seemed a bit stronger.

Licking his lips, he savored the lingering taste of blood on them as he quickly drifted into half-sleep, dreams already starting. Red glowing eyes and a hard sculpted body, growls and groans and whimpers, claws digging into skin, teeth biting flesh. Falling fully asleep, the dreams became more intense. God those were some good dreams. His favorite kind. The kind where Derek was the star.

**I'm a little self-concious about this last part, here. My first go at male on male smut... let me know how I did...**


	8. Chapter 8: Sigh No More

**Thanks again to all of my lovely reviewers, your posts always make me beam uncontrolloably and my dog looks at me like I'm crazy! lmao. It's because of you guys that I have kept going with this, since I am usually REALLY bad about finishing things! I promise to keep going for as long as possible, and hopefully that means until this is over... as long as I keep getting feedback I'll keep going... probably :D (yes, still bribing you guys, rofl)**

**SONG: Sigh No More - _Mumford and Sons_**

How lucky they were that the day before the full moon fell on a Saturday. Which meant full moon night was Sunday, and they had the weekend together. They would all probably end up skipping school Monday, but the only one that was bothered by that was Lydia. She was always bitching about her 'perfect attendance record'. Stiles wouldn't be surprised if she actually did go to school on Monday. He would laugh if she did.

Stiles was at the Hale house already. He was always the first to arrive, eager for an excuse to have some alone time with Derek. He hadn't seen the man at all that morning though, and wondered if he was avoiding him.

He retrieved the box of silverware and dishes from the room that used to be a kitchen at one time. There was just about everything they would need inside, all 'borrowed' from each of their houses. As a result, everything was mismatched and different. They even had a few pots and pan, so Stiles could heat up the side dishes he usually brought from his house. He used the grill as a makeshift hot plate, setting the pots of food on top of them and stirring them contantly to heat them up. It usually fell to Stiles to prepare the food for some reason. The girls helped him sometimes, but it was usually him that made the dishes and brought them from home, and him who heated everything up and put it together.

He didn't really mind. He was the only one who had halfway passable culinary skills, anyway. His mom used to do all the cooking, and when she died that responsibility fell to him. It was either that or eat frozen dinners and fast food for the rest of his life. As a result, he had become a fairly good cook, good at making simple things. His mom's old recipe book was definitely a help, and he usually found some good tips and tricks in it. He kept it close at hand when he cooked. He loved just looking at it, at her messy scrawling handwriting in the margins and the clippings of recipes she had added. It was a small piece of her that he had left.

He opened the back of his jeep and pulled four large food-filled tuperware containers from one of the two extra large coolers that sat there. Derek had already hunted the night before, and left a skinned and cleaned deer, wrapped in a tarp, on the old rickety half-burned table in the 'kitchen', a few rabbits in a similar state lying next to it. Derek always took care of the meat. Stiles was thankful, because he had never skinned and cleaned an animal before, and didn't really know where to start. It was different when it was the full moon, and they were all wolfed out and taking down a deer for dinner. Their instincts took over, and they had no problem feeding on a warm and fully intact animal.

But it was completely different in human form, with human thoughts and feelings. Derek didn't seem to have a problem with that, though. Even in human form now he was ruled by his animal side. And that wasn't always as much of a bad thing as he made it out to be. Especially last night...those growls he was making..._god. _He wanted to hear those sounds again. Wanted to feel the breath against his skin as he made those sounds, feel his hot skin brushing his own, instead of just hearing him over the phone.

Derek was still sleeping, as far as Stiles knew. Scott had texted him saying that he and Allison would be there within the next two hours, and his texts to Jackson had gone unanswered. He had been tempted to text Lydia, but knew Jackson was still grumpy about him and Lydia, so he didn't want to start anything again. He didn't know if Jackson was still sleeping, or if he was purposefully ignoring him. Both possibilities were annoying, though.

The deer was for later, for dinner, and the rabits for lunch, if the meat lasted long enough. Which meant it was up to Stiles to pull together breakfast. He had already made a shit load of bacon, and it was filling up one of the containers that he had removed from his bag. He had taken the folding card table out of the back of his jeep- the one he always used- to prepare the food on, and it was sitting next to the grill with the tuperware decorating the top of it. The other coolers held more tuperware containers full of food- lunch and dinner- and three cases worth of soda, as well as a couple cartons of orange juice for breakfast, and a few of his father's beers that had been sitting in the fridge for so long he was sure his father had forgotten about them. The beers were a surprise for later that night.

The four tuperware conatiners sitting on the folding table held bacon, eggs, hash browns, and pancakes, all previously cooked at Stiles' house early that moring, along with the food for lunch and dinner. It was enough food to feed a small army- or a pack of ravenous werewolves- and he hoped his dad wouldn't notice that most of the food in the house was missing. He never had before, though, always too busy at work, and Stiles had always had enough time to replace everything before his dad ever realized anything was missing.

He left the grill to heat up, and left the containers on the table to warm up to room temperature before he heated the food. It would still be awhile before everyone was here and ready to eat, so he was trying to pace himself.

He finished prepping everything and then retrieved a big blanket out of the back of his jeep, spreading it out on the ground in the usual spot, under the shade of an old oak that was a few yards away from the house. He adjusted the blanket, flattening it out and straightening it until it lay perfectly against the grass, a huge expanse of black and red that almost looked like spilled blood, shadowed under the trees. He grimaced the the thought and flopped down on the blanket, with nothing better to do now than just relax and wait for the others to arrive.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Derek jerked awake abruptly, eyes opening and then squeezing shut again, the tendrils of his nightmare slipping away with the sunlight piercing though his eyelids. He remembered bits and pieces, but nothing major. It could have been so much worse, this close to the full moon. He could have lost control, as usual. Instead, he just had the image of intense brown eyes staring at him with hatred and fear, of his pack all lying dead at his feet. He'd had much worse dreams. Oh, it could have been _so_ much worse.

He opened his eyes once more, squinting them against the brightness of the sun. God, what time was it? Why was he waking up so late in the day?

Oh, yeah, he had been out all night hunting...after that intense phone call he had shared with Stiles...

He cursed and sat up, burrying his face in his hands in a vaguely embarassed way. He didn't even know if he could call that phone sex. Stiles had done all the work. Derek had hardly said anything at all, and he had still managed to get the kid off. _Fucking teenagers and their hormones._

He had meant to turn in early, then wake up at the crack of dawn and go hunting. But after the little phone incident, he'd had an even harder time getting to sleep than he had before the call. Even after he came all over himself, his hard on would _not_ go away. He'd had the overwhelming urge to take Stiles up on his offer, climb in through his window and fuck him crazy. He wasn't sure how he had manged to resist, and almost regretted his decision.

He could still smell Stiles, though. Oddly enough, it seemed stronger this morning than it had last night. He glared accusingly at his open window. It was supposed to air out his room, so what the hell? Then he heard a noise form the yard. The flicker of cloth and a faint tuneless humming. He peeked his head over the bottom of the window sill, on his knees now but still in his bed, and squinted at the sun for the time. It was almost noon. He looked down into the yard to see Stiles lounging on the red and black blanket that seemed to be the table for every full moon feast. How had he slept so long? No matter how long his nights were, he rarely slept past ten, if even 'til then.

Stiles was stretched out, arms behind his head and eyes closed, legs bent at the knee and spead apart. The grill was already heating up, and all the food was out and ready to be reheated as well. It seemed like he was just waiting for the others to arrive...and for _him_ to wake up. The position he was in looked inviting, and of course, Derek's mind went immediately to their conversation from the night before. He tried not to think of it, tried his damned hardest, but he couldn't put it out of his mind. The noises Stiles had made, the sighs and groans and whimpers, the begging, the things he had said...Derek could already feel himself getting hard, just remembering it.

He took a deep breath and reined himself in, trying to gain control over his rampant arousal. Sneaky little bastard. He had known exactly what he was doing last night on the phone. Derek wondered how long he had been planning it, wondered if he'd had the intentions in mind when he had left the message on Derek's phone. Probabaly so, knowing Stiles.

He growled at the memories of last night, as if trying to chase them away, and he climbed to his feet. He wasn't sure if he should go down there and talk to him, or stay up in his room away from him...or something else entirely. He wrestled with the decision for a moment before deciding that he wasn't going to hide form his fucking _Beta_. He was the Alpha here, and the little shit was not going to keep him hiding in his room over one goddamn phone call.

He was positive he could keep himself under control. He stood on front of the window, watching Stiles, taking a few more deep breaths to try and clear his head. The breaths only helped somewhat, though, since the smell of the tempting boy was drifting to him on the wind.

The lean body stretched out on the blanket suddenly, arched it's back, muscles rippling and rolling as he stretched and writhed, loosening his body, almost as if he were limbering up for something. Derek held his breath to keep from making any noise. As Stiles settled back down into a different position, Derek didn't miss the subtle glance he sent to the window, and he smirked ruefully. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing, knew that Derek was watching him.

He clenched his fists and took one more deep breath before he turned away from the window. Pulling a shirt out of one of the drawers of the dresser, he yanked it on over his bare torso. He still wore his jeans from last night, and his feet were bare. That was fine for now. He could do this. He could resist him easily. No problem.

His bare feet padded over charred wood as he turned and stalked out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him, and then he made his way down the splintered and creaky stairs. He took one last deep breath before he opened the door to the house and went outside to greet Stiles. He figured he'd dig the battery-opperated stereo out of the back of Stiles jeep and get some tunes going, help him start breakfast, maybe have a nice tense chat. Everything would be okay. And as soon as the rest of the pack got there, it would be even easier.

He walked across the dirt toward the grassy area where the blanket was spread out and Stiles lay. Those intense brown eyes were locked on him, watching his every move. Derek could totally control himself. Piece of cake. No problem...

**Chapter eight was going to be a very long one...but it was taking me awhile to write, and I got stuck a few times due to...unforseen circumstances. So I'm splitting it up. Maybe into two parts, maybe into three, we'll see...**

**Let me know what you think! What do you think is going to happen? Will Derek be able to control himself?**


	9. Chapter 9: Neutron Star Collision

**SONG: Neutron Star Collision - _Twilight_ Soundtrack**

Derek was completely out of control.

He wasn't really sure how it had happened, but Stiles was pinned to the ground underneath him, wrists locked in the tight grip of Derek's hand. He couldn't get enough if his mouth. Derek had lost his shirt at some point, and it was lying in the grass a few feet away. One of Stiles' legs was clinging to his waist, circling it, the other planted firmly on the ground for leverage as he rocked his hips up against Derek's, grinding their hips together. Derek was breathing in broken little pants between kisses, and Stiles sounded just as bad.

Derek plunged his fingers underneath Stiles' shirt, pushing it up as his fingers glided along the hot silky skin and hard muscle he found. Then his hand slip lower again, fingertips teasing the sensitive skin of hip bones and pelvis, dipping just underneath the waistband of his jeans. Stiles groaned into Derek's mouth, a desperately needy sound, begging for more than the light teasing fingertips were giving him. He loved how responsive Stiles was, how willing and aroused he so easily became under Derek's touch.

He still wasn't sure how this had happened, but he was far beyond caring. Stiles' tongue tentatively lapped at Derek's lower lip, seeking entrance, and Derek opened his mouth willingly to allow him access. Their tongues battled for dominance, and Stiles put up a hell of a fight, but Derek eventually won, of course. He ran his hand up the hot chest, then scraped his nails over sensitive buds of flesh, making Stiles arch into him, groaning into his mouth again, hips bucking hard against his. Derek couldn't take the distance any more, and he lowered himself down on top of Stiles fully, bringing their hips together with a lusty growl at the feel of the rock hard length pressed agianst him.

Stiles whimpered and ground against him, almost desperately, struggling against the hand holding his wrists, wanting to touch Derek as he was touching him. Derek pulled back, their tongues sliding apart, lips seperating, and it almost killed him to do so. He looked down into lust darkened eyes. Stiles stared back at him, glaring his disappointment at the distance between their mouths. Then he seemed to understand what Derek wanted, and he broke his gaze away, stopping his struggles and submitting to Derek's hold. Derek rewarded his submission by releasing his wrists. Stiles let out a hungry little noise and immeditaley plunged his hands into the waistband of Derek's jeans. Derek couldn't hold back the needy groan that escaped as those hands groped for his cock. He lowered his head to the pale arch of neck, nuzzling against it as hands explored, nudging his nose against a clenched jaw before placing a kiss there. Stiles understood once more what Derek wanted, and he tilted his head back, baring his throat with a breathy sigh.

The long column of bared throat, the mostly naked and heaving chest, the tent in his jeans and the faintly glowing eyes, the feel of hands groping under Derek's jeans...all of it coalesced into an insatiable desire to possess and own and mark, making him go crazy. He rained nipping little bites all over Stiles' throat and collarbone and jaw and what he could get to of his shoulders. Damn shirt was in the way. He tugged on it, but it was impossible to remove from the position Stiles was in, pinned firmly underneath Derek's larger body, and he was not going to relase Stiles for even an instant, even as long as it would take to remove the offensive piece of clothing. But he wanted it gone. So he ripped it, growling as he did so, tearing it open down the front, then tearing each sleeve open as well. Now it was nothing but a piece of shredded fabric between Stiles and the blanket underneath him. Nothing between Derek's possessive mouth and all that glorious heated skin and muscle. Stiles gasped at the abruptness of it, looking up at Derek with wide, shocked, doe-like eyes.

Then he laughed. A glorious wild laugh that sounded almost victorious, and he arched his body up toward Derek again, pulling against the older guy's belt loops to bring him even closer, pressing their hard chests together and hissing at the pleasure the contact brought him. Derek lowered his mouth to Stiles' once more, taking and possesing, nipping and licking at his lips as he writhed with impatience underneath him. Then he separated their mouths again and nipped his jaw. Stiles always seemd to know exactly what he wanted, and he bared his throat again, groaning desperately, his eyes fluttering closed. Derek grinned wolfishly, a fierce slash of pointed teeth, and then he lowered his head to bite at Stiles' neck. He placed a particularly rough nip against his collarbone, and Stiles whimpered, hips jerking, straining upward as if they could possibly get any closer than they already were.

Derek adjusted his legs, untangling them from Stiles', and moving so he was lying in between the slim thighs, forcing Stiles to remove his groping hands from Derek's jeans or have them crushed between their hard bodies. Their cocks slid against each other and they both groaned at the maddening sensation. But Stiles needed more. He thrust up against his alpha, grinding their hips together, seeking the friction he desperately craved. Hands clutched at Derek's bare back, nails digging into muscle and leaving marks on his flesh. Derek loved the pricks of pain, and he nipped harder at Stiles' skin in response, then latched his mouth onto the junction between neck and shoulder, biting hard, making Stiles hiss in pain and pleasure. He started to suck, drawing blood to the surface, biting and marking him. It was the first time he had ever done that, marked him like that. If Stiles had the ability to process a single thought in his head, he would have seen it as another victory.

Their hips thrust together rhythmically, and all Stiles could think of besides how good it felt was how much _better _it would feel if their jeans weren't in the way. But he couldn't make himself push Derek away, not even far enough to reach the buttons and zippers, not with the way he was gnawing on his neck like that, alternating between biting and licking and sucking. It was driving him wild, and all he could do was toss his head and whimper and groan and thrust back against Derek like some mindless slut. Which is exactly what he felt like.

Then Derek was takeing his mouth away from his neck, and Stiles growled a protest, until he started making a trail of little nibbles and licks and kisses over his collarbone, down his chest, nipping each nipple roughly, squeezing them between his lips and teeth hard until Stiles was fisting his hands in silky black hair and whimpering at the painful pleasure. He left a trail of rough bites, red marks, moving very slowly down the straining body, soothing the harder nips with a lave of his silky hot tongue.

He reached Stiles abdomen and nibbled at each muscle, dipping his tongue into the teen's bellybutton. And it felt amazing, but Stiles missed the friction against his cock. He raised up on his elbows, angling his head to look down his body at Derek. As soon as their glowing eyes locked, a fierce primal smile twisted Derek's lips, and he laughed in a dark way that promised so much pleasure that Stiles prayed he could handle it. That expression, the sound of that laugh, was the sexiest thing Stiles had ever experienced in his whole goddamn life. He couldn't breath, just from looking at him. He raised his head higher to look his fill. And that was when Derek slid his hand up a denim-covered thigh to cup Stiles hard cock through his jeans. He rubbed his palm roughly against the bulge, squeezing until Stiles whimpered.

His arms wouldn't hold him up anymore, and he groaned and fell back onto the blanket, eyes squeezing closed for a moment. Then he remembered that he wanted to watch, wanted to see everything, and he lifted his head off the ground as much as he could to see his Alpha, crouched above him. Derek kept rubbing him though his jeans, a teasing pressure that just made Stiles crave more. He used his mouth and teeth to pop open the button and pull down the zipper, his free hand making quick work of his own fly. When he removed his hand, Stiles groaned at the loss, and at the anticipation of what was coming next. And then Derek's mouth was pressing against him through the thin fabric of his boxers, his jeans wide open in a V as his straining cock tried to escape... and all coherent thought took a flying leap out the window once more.

He mouthed Stiles' cock, but didn't release it from the prison of the fabric it was trapped in, not yet. He was content with teasing him through the material until Stiles was a breathless mindless begging mess. It didn't take long. Only then did Derek curl his fingers into the waistband of the jeans and undewear and begin to pull the last bit of clothing slowly over slim hips.

As the clothing bypassed his pelvis, Derek froze. Stiles groaned in protest and growled at him to stop teasing. When he got no reply, no movement, he got a little anxious and opened his eyes. Derek was tense, face serious, head cocked to the side as if listening to something. So Stiles tried to listen, too. It was just really fucking hard with Derek's fingers buried under his boxers, the tips of them almost brushing against his aching cock. So, so close.

Then Derek was pulling away, rising to his feet and re-doing his fly. Stiles frowned. _What the fuck? He's doing this NOW?_ After he had already let it go so far? He sat up and was about to recklessly go off on the Alpha, start cursing him out, _something_...but Derek held up a hand to silence him, head still cocked to the side, and Stiles had enough sense back now to know that look on his face wasn't a good thing. He was hearing something, and Stiles didn't know what it was because there was so much blood rushing in his ears he couldn't hear anything but the pounding of both their hearts.

Then Derek looked down at him, still lying there on the rumpled blanket, his ripped shirt spread out underneath him, lips swollen, Derek's mark on his neck, hair mussed, chest still heaving, pants halfway pulled down so that the very top of his cock was already showing over the top of them...positively reeking of arousal and insanely mindless desire. Derek knew there were other members of his pack coming, but he almost just said "fuck it" and pounced on Stiles once more, with him lying there, looking like that. He swallowed a groan, knowing that was not the right thing to do right now.

"I hear Allison's car," he said finally, looking at Stiles meaningfully.

It took a moment for the words to break through the fog of lust, for him to comprehend what his Alpha meant, and once he did he freaked out. Derek almost laughed at the comical way his eyes widened. He leaned down and gripped Stiles' arms, yanking him onto his feet. Stiles seemed to be paralyzed, so Derek took it upon himself to jerk his boxers and jeans up all the way and re-button and -zip them for him. He ran a hand through the teen's hair, smoothing it down. There was nothing he could do about the mark he had left on his neck, and he winced to look at it. It was a large dark bruise, extremely visible on Stiles' pale skin. There were red bite marks over his whole torso, especially around his neck. They would take a little while to heal, since they had been made by werewolf teeth, but that dark mark would take even longer. He opened his mouth to tell Stiles to snap out of it, but before he could say anything Stiles started freaking out.

"How far away are they? Fuck! Look at your back! Theyre going to know something happened! _Fuck_!"

Derek gripped Stiles' shoulders, and his touch seemed to calm the kid down. The pack already knew what was between them, so Derek didn't see the big deal...or they _thought _they knew. Derek was aware that they gossiped about the two of them when they weren't around, and he also knew they were only halfway right about the relationship...

"Do you care if they know something happened?" he asked slowly, surprised at how important the answer was to him.

Stiles seemed to think it over for a moment before smiling, a bit rakishly.

"No," he laughed. "Not really."

_Then what is the big deal?_

"Good...because they're going to know the instant they look at you..."

Stiles looked own at his bare torso, marked all over with little red bite marks, and squeaked.

"Hey," Derek chastised him. "Werewolves do _not_ squeak!"

Stiles made a face, then he let out a strangled little noise that Derek thought might have been supposed to be a growl. He snickered.

"Werewolves don't do that, either...whatever that was ..."

Stiles glared. Then he scampered over to Derek's black t-shirt that had been tossed on the ground. He picked it up and pulled it over his head in an attempt to cover the marks all over his upper body. They were slowly fading, but not nearly as fast as Stiles had expected them to. Derek, on the other hand, knew better.

He looked at his head Beta with a hooded gaze. Stiles looked fuckin' sexy as hell in the v-neck t-shirt that belonged to his Alpha. It was a little too big for him, the V hanging down low enough to show the top of his chest, and not doing much to cover up any of the marks except the ones on his abdomen. Derek had the urge to pounce on him again, rip off another shirt, and leave more marks.

He managed to restrain himself, though, and he pulled his eyes away from Stiles long enough to scoop and pick up the shredded bits of the kid's blue t-shirt, tucking them in his pocket. Stiles gaped at him. It reminded him of a guy pocketing a girl's panties after they had sex. _What the fuck?_

Before he had time to read too much into it, though, he heard the sound of Allison's car approaching. He took a deep breath and hurried over to the grill, which was just getting to be hot enough. He started emptying the food in the tupperware into the pots and setting them on the top of the grill so the food could start to simmer.

As he worked, he watched Derek out of the corner of his eye. The Alpha stalked over to the blanket and threw himself down on it, still shirtless and shoeless, of course. He stretched out, rolling his muscles and arching his back off the ground, much in the same manner that Stiles had done earlier when he had been trying to tempt Derek, and Stiles' head slowly turned to watch. His mouth watered as he admired the way muscles rippled, and when Derek relaxed back onto the blanket, he shot Stiles a smug smirk that had him blushing faintly and jerking his head back to the food he was trying to prepare.

A few moments later, Allison's car pulled up. Stiles couldn't help glancing down at himself to check the bite marks. Still there, still fading. He could only imagine how the one on his neck looked...

Scott jumped out of the car and ran over to him immediately, drawn by the sight and smell of the food. He wrapped an arm around Stiles' neck and leaned in to inhale the smell of the food...then he froze as he got a good whiff of Stiles, and his head turned to look at his friend, as if in slow motion, almost comically so. The arm slowly slid off of his neck as Scott backed up a couple of paces to take him in. Stiles ignored his behavior and kept stirring the food.

"Hey, man, how's it goin'?" Stiles asked casually, as if there was nothing going on, nothing different. As if he wasn't wearing their Alpha's shirt and covered in his marks and his scent.

It wasn't as if Scott had never smelled Derek on him before. It was nearly a common occurence if the two were left alone together in private for a long amount of time...but Derek had never left bite marks all over him before, and he had never worn Derek's shirt before, because he and Derek had never gone past making out before. And they _still _hadn't, thanks to their cock-blocking packmates. He let out an annoyed growl.

Now that he dissected it a little, he supposed all of those things would make it seem as if Derek had claimed him. The marks all over him, the strong scent on him, and the fact that he wore Derek's shirt... That's not what it was, though, was it? He didn't see why Derek would claim him _now_. He didn't know what had changed, didn't think anything had changed. No, that couldn't be it, it was just a sex-thing, that's all. Just teasing. He'd know if he'd been claimed...

Scott just kept staring at him, and it was making Stiles uncomfortable. He twitched and fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot as he stirred each pot in turn. He heard a growl coming from Derek.

"Stop being rude, Scott," Derek barked.

That seemed to jar Scott out of the strange little trance he had fallen into. He smiled that easy smile of his after a moment and sidled right back up next to his friend, slingling his arm back across his shoulders, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just spent almost a full two minutes standing there and staring at him like he had just announced to the world that he was moving to Pakistan to become a cross-dressing pig farmer.

"Looks good, dude," Scott said, commenting on the food. "When can we eat?"

"When Lydia and Jackson get here," Derek said from his spot lounging on the blanket. Scott groaned and Derek rolled his eyes.

_Damn kid, always thinking with his stomach or his dick._

Allison stepped in front of them, facing them across the grill. He saw her eyes flash to the fading amrks on his skin, but she didn't react the way Scott had, just standing there and staring dumbly as if she didn't know what she was seeing. Instead, she acted as if the marks weren't there at all, beaming at him and telling him good morning. He laughed.

"Morning? It's half past noon!"

Allison giggled and shrugged, then asked if there was anything she could do to help. He asked her to get the plates and silverware ready, and then he told Scott to call Jackson and see where the two of them were, since the bastard wouldn't answer any of Stiles' texts. Scott immediately obeyed, making Stiles smirk. _Who's Batman and who's Robin now, bitch?_

He heard Scott call Jackson's cell phone, heard Jackson pick up on the third ring. That _bastard_. He glanced over at Derek and saw his jaw clench in a familiar look of irritation. Derek had told them a thousand times that they needed to keep in touch with one another, needed to be able to rely on one another. So, why was Jackson answering Scott, but not him? Was he still mad about the Lydia thing? If he was, he was even more of an idiot than Stiles thought. He heard Jackson tell him they were on their way, and his own jaw clenched in annoyance. After the slip-ups he had, the way he knew Derek was angry at the guy, he knew it wasn't going to be a pretty sight once he did show up.

Stiles imagined Derek beating him to a pulp and tried to hide a smile, even though he knew Derek would never do something like that to one of his pack. Jackson would need to be put in his place, though... Stiles knew the perfect way of doing it, and he knew Derek would approve.

He glanced at Allison, who was still setting out the plates and silverware.

"We only need five plates, Allison," he muttered. She looked at him in confusion, so he explained. "Jackson's in trouble. He's been an uncontrollable ass lately and he needs to be put in his place. He can eat whatever's left when the rest of us are done."

Just like in a wolf pack in the wild, the lowest pack member always ate last.

Allison glanced at the Alpha for confirmation, and Derek nodded once before shifting his curious gaze to Stiles. Stiles couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk that twisted his lips. He wasn't stupid. He didn't need Derek to tell him everything when it came to pack interaction. Some stuff was instinctual, while other stuff was just kind of obvious.

When Jackson's sleek silver porsche pulled up, Stiles tensed automatically, expecting a scene from him when he learned about the eating arrangements. But Derek stood up from his relaxed position and went to meet Jackson at the car. One look at Lydia sent her scurrying over to the other teenagers, her expression curious as Derek pulled Jackson aside and spoke in a low voice to him.

"What's going on?" the sly redhead asked Stiles, eyes glued to her mate and the Alpha.

"Jackson eats last," was all he said. Lydia frowned for a moment, but she seemed to understand quicker than Allison had. She nodded swiftly and nudged Stiles aside gently, telling him she'd serve everyone so he didn't have to. It was sort of a respectful gesture, but he didn't pretend he wasn't suspicious, thinking she'd try to make sure Jackson got enough food. She just smiled that sly smile of hers and said, "trust me."

He laughed out loud as Lydia served extra large portions on each plate. She smirked, and Scott laughed, too. Only Allison looked slightly bothered. He glanced over at Jackson and Derek again, still expecting anger from Jackson, but all he saw was the top of Jackson's head. His eyes were on the ground as he bared the back of his neck to his alpha. Derek gripped it roughly in his hand and turned, shoving Jackson toward the rest of the teenagers.

Jackson stumbled, then regained his footing and approached slowly, avoiding eye contact with every single one of them. He stood awkwardly next to the table, lingering near Lydia as she made everyone's plates, his nose twitching at the smell of the food. Stiles' eyes stayed glued to him, waiting. Waiting.

Jackson finally looked up, meeting Stiles' eyes. They locked gazes for a moment, and Stiles could feel the stares of the rest of the pack on the two of them. Jackson nodded once, jerking his head slightly, and Stiles paused for a moment, drawing the tension out, and then he nodded back. Jackson immediately broke eye contact, bowing his head, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief that there hadn't been a battle for dominance.

Stiles glanced at Scott and Allison. He could see that they weren't totally sure what had just gone down, but they partially understood. Jacskon had sort of apologized to Stiles for excluding him and for his behavior at school, and then he had submitted to him, once Stiles had acknowledged his apology. This same thing had already happened with Derek. That was what the neck-baring had been about, a minute ago. Jackson didn't owe his submission to anyone else but Stiles, the head Beta, and Derek, the Alpha.

Jackson was now the low dog on the totem pole. The most submissive in the pack, despite his rage issues and seeming pridefulness. Every one of them outranked him. Lydia was second to Stiles only by a little. She was a power hungry bitch- technically speaking- but she knew better than to challenge him. Allison was a bit more dominant than Scott, and probably could have challenged him for it if she wanted a higher rank, but Stiles knew she never would. She didn't need to. Scott was wholly and entirely hers, so dominance didn't really matter between the two of them.

Stiles predicted that there may be a few fights for dominance between Scott and Jackson before the pack established it's place. But he knew his position was safely secured in the group. He didn't have to worry about anyone challenging, unless Jackson flew into another idiotic rage again and made a huge mistake. The abruptness of his confirmed position was a little unexpected, and he was almost disappointed. He had sort of been looking forward to the violent dominace struggles, to proving himself to his friends.

But, he supposed, he had kind of done that already. It just wasn't quite as physical as he was hoping for. It had started when he had refused to let Lydia control him, and had actually taken control of her that night. It had continued when he had pinned Jackson belly-up and made him submit, even though it was Lydia who had been the one to ultimately calm him down, he had submitted to Stiles beforehand, and then made his submission quite clear afterward, by avoiding his eyes.

It also helped that he had the Alpha's marks all over him. He smirked at the thought, wondering if he was going to get the chance to tease Derek into giving him more of those delicious marking-bites. They had been amazing.

He glanced over at Derek and noticed that his eyes were on him, staring. It made him feel a little self concious, being stared at. Derek caught his gaze, and Stiles held it for a moment before submitting and looking away, like a good Beta. When he glanced at Derek again, their was a tiny smile tugging at one corner of his mouth, and Stiles felt warmth explode throught his chest, happy that he had pleased his Alpha. Pleased his stoic sour-wolf Alpha enough that he was actually on the verge of smiling. It was a fucking miracle.

Lydia cleared her throat, and everyone looked at her from where they were hovering around the food table. She had finished making the plates, and they sat in a small jumble on the table. The pack all looked at Derek, who strode forward and took first choice. Stiles was next, and then the rest of them just had at it, while Jackson stood off to the side, waiting a bit impatiantly. Stiles joined Derek on the blanket while they waited for the others to sort out their food. Stiles scooted close to Derek, wanting to sit near him, touch him maybe, but Derek didn't even acknowledge him. His eyes were on the rest of his pack, and Stiles could hear his stomach rumbling furiously.

"Hurry up, damn it! We're starving over here!" he called to the scrabbling 'wolves, who scrabbled even faster at his words. Derek snickered so quietly Stiles almost didn't hear him. He looked at him, wanting to share a secret smile with him, but Derek was still looking at the others. Stiles sighed. He had a feeling their little makeout session today hadn't really changed anything between them. Even though Derek's marks covered Stiles' entire upper body... It annoyed him a little, and he let out a grumbling sigh, poking at his eggs with his fork.

This was just how it had always been between them, when it wasn't violent. Derek, ignoring him, leaving Stiles all alone and yearning as soon as their lips separated and Derek found something to distract him. Looks like he would have to resort to making him angry ater all. Plans started forming in his mind, and he tried to resist the sly smile that was attemptng to force it's way across his face. Maybe making him jealous would work, too...

The pack finally managed to stop fighting over the food, and they joined Stiles and Derek on the blanket, looking to Derek to take the first bite before they dug in. As they ate, Jackson scraped the pots for anything that was left, loading it onto a plate he had to fix himself. By the time his plate was made and he was sitting down on the blanket with the others, they were all mostly finished. Jackson looked grumpy at having to eat on his own, but didn't say anything about it of course.

Stiles had a few pieces of bacon left, a few bites of eggs, and two pancakes. He was still hungry, and knew that he would be even if he ate what was left on his plate. Derek, on the other hand, still looked famished somehow, as if he could never get enough to eat. He let out a fake groan and patted his belly, pretending to be full. Five sets of eyes lasered in on him. Well, on his plate. He growled at them all and offered his plate to his Alpha, who graciously accepted, of course. The others made noises of disappointment and got busy finishing off their own food. Derek inhaled Stiles' leftovers in the blink of an eye, and he still looked hungry. Stiles' hand darted out and he snatched a piece of bacon from Scott's plate, ignoring the half-hearted warning growl. He offered it to Derek, holding it up to his mouth for him to bite. Derek hesitated only a momnet before doing so, eyes meeting Stiles'. He devoured the piece of bacon, then licked his lips. Before Stiles could react, he had snatched his hand and was licking the bacon grease off the long thin fingers.

Stiles did everything he could to fight the wave of aroual that threatened to rise up at the sight and feel of Derek licking his fingers. Oh, he definitely wanted more of that. His fingers darted out and he snagged Allison's last piece of bacon.

"Hey, I was saving that!" she squaked indignantly. Stiles ignored her, gaze focused on his Alpha.

He offered the piece to Derek again, who repeated the process of eating the bacon and them licking Stiles' fingers clean. Stiles tried not to whimper at the feel of that hot tongue, at the thought of what he had missed out on earlier because Scott and Allison had interrupted them.

Derek seemed to realize what he was doing, and his expression shut down, silently withdrawing himself from Stiles without moving an inch. Stiles rolled his eyes. It was disappointing, but not like he hadn't expected it. He was actually surprised that Derek had let himself go as far as he did.

He rose from his spot on the blanket, ignoring everyone's eyes on him, and stretched his arms above his head, arching his back until he heard a satisfying little crack.

"I'm going for a walk," he murmured, skirting around the stack of empty plates at the edge of the blanket, and set off away from the rest of the pack, not looking back.

He heard the frantic scraping of a fork on a plate, and the clink of plate on plate, and then a loud burb, and then someone was scrambling to their feet and running after him. Jackson came up beside him, to Stiles' surprise.

"Can I come?" he murmured quietly, sounding so self-concious and so unlike Jackson.

Stiles glanced briefly back at Derek, who was scowling, but keeping his mouth shut. He smirked.

"Yeah, sure, you can come..." He hadn't stopped walking, and Jackson had paused when he'd asked the question, unsure of Stiles' answer. Now he rushed to catch up, coming up beside Stiles again, their shoulders bumping as they made their way into the woods.

**Now Stiles is going off into the forest with Jackson, still turned in from Derek, and also annoyed at him...what's going to happen, do you think? Is he going to implement his plans of making Derek jealous and/or angry? Or will they just have a nice leaisurely bromantic stroll? I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


	10. Chapter 10: Control

**Rewrote the makeout scene from the previous chapter. Please go back and take a look! I think it's SO much better now. It seemed a little cold and forced to me. Reading it didn't really do anything for me before, but now it makes me hot, that's how I know it's better, lmao. My boyfriend was no help; I asked him to read the scene and tell me what he thought, and I told him how I thought it seemed a little forced, but he said, "no, it's good." I really should have known better, hehe.**

**This chapter may come as a bit of a shock to some of you, and a delight to others. I hope it doesn't disappoint anyone. Trust me, it won't ruin things between the Alpha and his head Beta, or between our favorite problematic couple...**

**I recently made a new graphic for this fic. If you want to see it, follow the link at the top of my profile :) I think it's amazingly awesome, and I don't usually compliment my own work like that!**

**This chapter took awhile, since I was trying to get the smutty scene worked out better than the last chapter was. GAWD that was a mess. I dunno how you guys even liked it when I first posted it. Whatever, it's better now. Hope you guys liked the teaser! Here's the real thing!**

**SONG: Control - _Puddle of Mudd_**

Derek watched Stiles and Jackson walk into the woods together with a faint sense of dread. He glanced at Lydia, and she was looking at him. Their eyes met for a moment, both looking slightly worried.

Scott got up from the blanket and walked over to Stiles' jeep, as if he had been waiting for the opportunity. Allison got up and took the stack of dishes over to the table to wipe them off with a wet rag that was sitting there, before the bits of food started to crust onto them. Derek and Lydia stayed reclining on the blanket, Derek keeping his eyes on Scott as he opened the back of the jeep and started rummaging around.

"What are you doing?" Derek demanded, a slight growl in his voice. He didn't like Scott invading Stiles' territory. It felt almost as if he were invading his own, too. He didn't stop to dwell on that feeling, not wanting to read too much into it.

Scott froze, tensing up, then he turned to look at Derek with a slight frown.

"I'm just getting the stereo. Chill dude, it's not _your _car..."

"It's not yours either..." Derek snarled back, speaking through clenched teeth, and Allison glanced up at them.

"Scott? Could you get me that jug of water out while you're in there? I need to wash the plates..." She glanced quickly at Derek, as if worried he'd protest. Derek sighed in an almost put-upon way and got up from his comfortable position on the blanket. He went over to the jeep and pushed Scott out of the way. The puppy-eyed 'wolf seemed to be having trouble findng what he was looking for anyway. Scott growled halfheartedly and slunk over to collapse back onto the blanket next to Lydia. He was used to being pushed around by an exasperated Alpha.

Derek located the stereo immediately, and pulled out the jug of water, too, while he was at it. He tossed the stereo at Scott roughly, and the kid caught it with a pained grunt. Then he walked the jug of water over to Allison and set it down on the table gently. She smiled at him and he let a faint smile of his own ghost across his lips in reply. He felt like he had to be nicer to Allison, like she needed more care and compassion than the other members of his pack. It wasn't entirely true. She was a strong girl and was alot more resilient, tougher than she seemed. She didn't need the careful way he treated her, but he liked to do it. And she seemed to like the it, too. She was the only pack member he treated with anything close to tenderness and care. Lydia was a sinister little minx who acted as tough as she was, so it was different with her. And, well, the boys were just boys. Even Stiles...

As he turned to go back over to the the blanket, Allison gently caught his arm, and he turned to look at her expectantly.

"Should we go after them?' she asked softly, jerking her head in the direction Stiles and Jackson had gone to indicate what she was talking about, as if he didn't already know. He heard a soft laugh and turned to look at his clever little perceptive Lydia. One side of his mouth quirked up in the semblence of a smirk, and he turned back to look at Allison.

The dark haired girl had great control over her wolf side, but she wasn't embracing it, wasn't using the instincts it gave her... alot like Scott. Her and Scott sure were perfect for each other, but both of them needed to accept their fates, accept what they were, and move on.

"No, let's give them a few minutes alone before you guys run off after them..."

Allison frowned, not understanding why they wouldn't go now.

"You're not coming?" she asked hesitantly. Derek sighed.

"Yeah, I'll be along shortly afterward. I think I'm gonna start lunch before I follow..."

Allison still looked confused, but she nodded. Derek was beginning to think that Scott was rubbing off on her...and not just in a sexual way. She always seemed to look confused about one thing or another, which was ridiculous, because the human-Allison understood far more than she ever let on. But werewolf-Allison was still warring with herself over the way her life had turned out. He supposed it was no wonder she wasn't herself lately, after all that she had been through.

Allison finished cleaning the dishes and pots with the jug of water and the wet rag, and she set them all aside in tidy little stacks. He opened his mouth, about to speak, to reassure her, or to compliment her, or _something_, because he felt like she needed it, but nearly jumped out of his skin instead, as music blasted through the clearing. He, Allison, and Lydia all turned to glare at Scott, who was fiddling with the small battery-operated stereo. He was oblivious to the glares of his three startled packmates.

He opened the CD drive and glanced inside, then shut it and pressed 'play', muttering over the music, what sounded like, "good choice Stiles." The tone sounded a little sarcastic. A moment later, _Puddle of Mudd_ rang out into the clearing, and Derek smiled. He liked this CD. Stiles knew that, as they had listened to it before. He had shared parts of it with him the morning after he had been bitten, when they had discussed their favorite bands and songs.

Derek had immensely enjoyed that discussion. He had never talked to Stiles so extensively before that morning, never had any sort of dicussion with him, because he had never been alone with him for so long. Even when he was holing up in the Sherriff's house to avoid being caught, they hadn't had much conversation. Derek had been too pissed off and anxious, and Stiles had been too, well, Stiles. The instant he had been Turned, though, something had changed in the boy. Something Derek couldn't put his finger on at first. It was a stillness inside of him that had grown, a calmness almost. Derek had never seen anyone react to the bite the way Stiles had, not so soon. But he had always known Stiles was special, he just hadn't known the implications of that until he had seen the evidence with his own eyes.

Derek sometimes remembered the old human Stiles with fondness, but mostly it was just with annoyance. The old Stiles had this delicious sweet warm scent to him, like trust, or innocence, as sappy and ridiculous as that sounded. But werewolf-Stiles had lost that sweet scent. Sometimes Derek missed it, but he found he preferred the distilled-sex scent that seemed to hover around him now to the sweet smell of innocence. The kid had really embraced his confidence and sexual prowess since he had turned, much to Derek's exasperation. He was sexy before, without knowing it, but now that he was aware of his attraction, he used it shamelessly.

Derek wasn't oblivious to the many dates Stiles had been on recently, usually ending with shamless groping and making out in the back of Stiles' jeep. It was as if he were making up for lost time. Derek wasn't bothered, and in fact, liked to watch Stiles on his dates sometimes. He found it amusing that the kid rarely got along well with the girls he went out with, but almost always ended up making out with them by the end of the night anway.

The music was pounding into his skull, pulling him out of his thoughts. Scott had turned up the volume, and it was really getting on his nerves. He hated the particular song that was playing.

"Put on number two!" he snapped, and Scott rushed to obey.

"What about five...or eight? Maybe twelve?" Scott asked with a weird smirk. Derek didn't like that look. Why was Stiles discussing what kind of music he liked with Scott? He glared. What _else _had he told his friend about Derek?

"What're you talking about?" he snarled.

Scott shrugged and chuckled, messing with some settings on the stereo so that it would only play certain tracks.

"On the CD is has the numbers two, five, eight, and twelve written in permananent marker on top. I was just wondering what the numbers were about. Thanks for clearing it up."

Scott, Allison, and Lydia all laughed. Derek scowled furiously, feeling like they were laughing at him.

He glanced toward the direction that Stiles had gone with Jackson. He had some idea as to what was going on, and, while he knew it was a natural thing, a normal thing for new werewolves trying to settle their dominance in a pack, it still bothered him a little, and he wondered at that. The thought of Stiles alone with another male, no matter how sexual or platonic their actions were, pissed him off and made him want to send heads rolling. He would restrain himself though, of course. He knew no one could compete with him, if he decided to put himself in the running... Which he still didn't think was a good idea.

He wondered how Lydia felt about the whole thing. He knew she probabaly understood, at least part of it anyway. He glanced at her, but she seemed perfectly fine, if slightly anxious. The boys had been gone for almost half an hour. Lydia was getting fidgety, ready to go after them already, but Derek wanted to give them some time.

He knew their little display earlier hadn't really completely settled things, but their time together would. And Derek would do anything possible- let his pack members do anything they needed to- to make things right in his pack, to get them to act in harmony and love and get along. No matter how sappy and hippy-dippy that sounded. He would never admit that his actions with them were all based on this one goal, but he suspected some of them knew it. Stiles and Lydia, anyway.

As one of his favorite songs played, 'Control', he laid back on the blanket, relaxed, listened to the music, and tried not to let himself think about what Stiles and Jackson were doing...

_I love the way you look at me_

_I feel the pain you place inside_

_you lock me up inside your dirty cage_

_well I'm alone inside my mind_

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Stiles followed a familiar path with the scent of the pack on it, leading to the lake. It was far enough away from the dilapidated property that no one would hear them talking . The wind blew the packs' scent upwind, toward them.

They walked in silence. To Stiles it was a comfortable silence, but he could feel the anticipation and the nervousness drifting off of Jackson in waves, and he wondered at that, glancing over at the submissive 'wolf periodically. _What is up with him?_

Their stroll to the lake remained silent, and when Stiles smelled the water, saw it glinting through the trees, he sped up his pace a little, circling the bank to find the perfect spot.

There was a small grouping of trees that were gathered close together on the bank of the lake, squeezed up against each other so that there was hardly any room between the trunks. A large flat stone was at their base, and it looked as if the trees had grown up around it, twisting their trunks to give it room, and maybe that's why they were squished together that way. This was Stiles' favorite spot by the lake. A neat pile of stones rested there. Stones that Stiles had collected and arranged. Flat smooth stones, perfect for skipping.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to show Jackson his special spot, but it didn't really matter all that much, he supposed. The pack had all seen this spot, following Stiles' scent at one point or another to end up here. It wasn't a secret, just special. He took a seat on the flat warm rock, back to the trees, facing the water that was only a couple of feet away from there. Jackson seemed to hover awkwardly at the edge of the rock, as if stepping onto it would be invading Stiles' territory. Stiles looked over at him and patted the stone beside himself, almost laughing at Jackson's eagerness as he leapt onto the stone and flopped down beside Siles. Quite close, actually, with the side of his leg pressed up against Stiles'. Stiles liked it, enjoyed the warmth and the contact.

They continued their silence, Stiles staring out at the lake contemplatively, Jackson casting quick glances at Stiles every now and then, glances Stiles didn't miss, just decided not to acknowledge.

Finally, Jackson spoke.

"I'm sorry, you know," he said, voice small and quiet, but sincere. He still had his pride, no matter how submissive, which was why he had come all the way out here with Sties to say this, instead of saying it in front of everyone else.

Stiles was partially in the wrong, since he _had_ kissed Lydia, but he wasn't even sure if Jackson knew about that. Wasn't sure if _anyone_ knew other than he, Lydia, and Derek. Either way, he wasn't going to let Jackson off the hook so easily.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, trying to keep the smile out of his voice.

Jackson whimpered, and Stiles was surprised at the effect that noise had on him. He turned his head to look at Jackson.

"Sorry I tried to attack you...sorry I wouldn't answer your texts and wouldn't let Lydia, either...just, sorry..."

Stiles regarded the handsome boy that was sitting next to him, that was only meeting his eyes in brief glances before darting away nervously. He had such pretty eyes, blue-green and clear and bright, especially in this light, with the water reflecting off of them. Surprised would have been an understatement, as Stiles felt a growing arousal rising up in him while looking at the submissive 'wolf next to him.

"Forgive me?" Jackson said in a slightly shaky voice. Stiles smirked, deciding to mess with him a little.

"I dunno...do _you _think I shuld forgive you?" he teased.

Jackson gave him a stricken look, but didn't seem as if he knew what he was supposed to say. It was clear he wanted to be forgiven, but wasn't sure if he deserved it. Stiles licked his lips as he looked at the delicious boy, and wasn't sure what had come over him. As his arousal grew palpable, he saw something cross Jackson's face. A fleeting emotion so quick he had missed it. Then Jackson looked up at him and licked his own lips.

"Let me make it up to you," he said, voice low and a little husky. Did he mean what Stiles thought he meant? He hesitated, but Jackson placed a hand on his thigh, stroking up slowly. Stiles didn't stop him. That seemed to be answer enough for Jackson. He pressed himself tight against Stiles' side and spoke against the skin of his neck.

"Stand up..." it was a tentative request, but it sounded a bit too much like an order for Stiles' liking. He turned his head with a small growl, and their faces were only centimeters apart. He saw Jackson's eyes fall to his lips, and he licked them, a moment before grabbing Jackson by the back of his neck and pressing their mouths together. He was surprised and turned on by the little whimpering growl that left Jackson's throat as he began to kiss Stiles back.

What were they _doing_? Stiles was so confused. He couldn't remember ever feeling any sort of attraction to Jackson before, at least not one this overwhelming. He had just been on the verge of sex with Derek a little more than an hour ago, and now here he was with Jackson, the two of them making out like...well...like a couple of horny teenagers. Which, he supposed, was exactly what they were. Stiles couldn't help but wonder when exactly he had turned into such a slut.

Stiles' hand slid up Jackson's neck and tightened in his hair, making Jackson whimper again. God those whimpers were fucking amazing. Almost as good as Derek's growls. Almost.

The kiss was fierce and fast, but not as rough as Stiles' would've expected. Jackson's lips were soft and gentle, and he softly nipped at Stiles' bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. Stiles hummed and pushed against his chest, pushing Jackson to the ground and climbing over top of him. He wedged a knee in between Jackson's legs and pressed forward a little with his thigh, rubbing against the hard length he could feel before pulling away from his mouth and nipping lightly at his neck. Jackson groaned and arched up to him, but Stiles pulled away, eager for what Jackson had been planning when he had told him to stand up. He did, now, and looked down at Jackson, laying before him, belly up and writhing with want. He beckoned to him, and Jackson sat up, then pulled himself up onto his knees quickly. Stiles backed up a few steps and leaned against one of the trees, and Jackson followed him, still on his knees.

As soon as he reached him, Jackson's hands went to the front of Stile's jeans, swiftly unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper. Unbidden, the image of Derek opening his fly with his mouth came to mind, and he moaned a little. Jackson smirked, thinking that noise was for him, and Stiles didn't correct him. He slowly pulled Stiles' jeans and underwear down to the middle of his thighs, humming in pleasure when he saw how hard Stiles was already.

He leaned forward so slowly that Stiles thought he was going to die from the anticipation. Just as he was about to snap at him, a wet pink tongue darted out, and he was covering the straining cock in front of him in tiny kitten licks, light little tongue flicks. It was maddening, especially since he purposefully avoided the head all together. It was driving him crazy. Jackson's hands were on his hips, gripping gently but not controlling. His hands weren't touching the straining cock, just that darting little tease of a tongue.

A rumble started in Stiles' chest, at the pleasure and the frustration of it. The noise was never ending, and it just grew, until it was a fierce snarl. He smelled a spike of fear in Jackson at the noise, and he marvelled out how that smell seemed to up his arousal a fraction. _Wow_. He never knew he'd be turned on by the scent of fear.

He was tired of the teasing. He grabbed one of Jackson's hands and yanked it off of his hip roughly, holding it perhaps a little too tight, and then placing it directly on his cock, hissing at the contact. Jackson went with it, gripping his cock and lifting it up, licking a hard stripe along the underside, from base to tip, delighting in the groan that Stiles let out with that delicious contact. Then he finally, blessedly, took the hard cock fully into his mouuth.

The wet heat enveloped and clung as lips moved down the shaft and more of his cock was swallowed. The tip hit the back of a throat and stopped, cheeks hollowing. _Nuh_-_uh_, Stiles was having none of that stopping bullshit. He clutched a hand in the submissive wolf's hair to keep him in place, and then he thrust forward, cock sliding down a tight throat. Jackson almost choked, but managed to fight it. He moaned, and the feeling of the tight pulsing throat, the wet heat, and the vibration of the moan going through his cock almost pushed him over the edge right there. But he managed to get a grip right at the last minute. Then he had the image of cumming right now, of spurting directly down Jacksons throat, and that almost made him come, too. _God... too close..._

He pulled out of the tight throat, then thrust back in, fingers still fisted in dark blonde hair. The steady moans Jackson was making heightened his arousal to breaking point. He seemed to realize how much Stiles liked them. The hand had moved back to his hip, and now it was Stiles doing all the work, holding Jackson's head in place by his hair as he thrust into his throat, fucking his mouth. _God, does this kid have no gag reflex?_ Stiles wasn't complaining. It was the best blow job he had ever had, even if he was doing most of the work.

The other blowjobs he'd gotten had been from girls that didn't know what they were doing, had no experience pleasing a man, had no idea how to do it right. He'd wanted to do the same thing then as he was doing now, hold their head in place while he thrust into their mouths, but he had restrained himself. That would have been rude, would have upset them. So he had just taken whatever they had been wlling to give. Which was nothing close to _this_.

It was different with Jackson. He was at the mercy of Stiles, the more dominant wolf, and he seemed to love it. Though, Stiles didn't really have to worry about making sure he was enjoying himself, because that wasn't what this was about. It was about power and control and his own pleasure. It was about fulfilling desires and using each other and reparations. It was nothing more than that.

Even so, Stiles coulnd't get Derek out of his mind as he pumped into Jackson's welcoming throat. The noises and the scent of him, his voice, his touch. Then the rumbling growl from Jackson, that made him think of Derek's growls...that was what pushed him over the edge, what made him finally come.

He shot down Jackson's throat. His mouth opened on a groan, and he started to growl out the wrong name before he caught himself.

"Deh...ungh..._Jacks_..."

He opened his eyes and looked down at Jackson as his orgasm trembled through him. His eyes were icy blue and he had Stiles' come dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. He was smiling. Stiles dropped to his knees in front of him and leaned forward, licking the liquid up. Then he kissed him, and it was nice to be the one in control of the kiss. He enjoyed tasting himself on Jackson's tongue, too, and never knew he was such a kinky bastard.

When he pulled back, Jackson met his eyes more a moment before averting his gaze, a faint smile on his mouth.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

_Wait, what?_ Stiles should be the one thanking _him_, not the other way around. Then he realized what he meant. Thank you for forgiving him, for letting him prove he was sorry, for enjoying what Jackson had done to him. He smirked and stroked a thumb over one of the boy's ice-sharp cheekbones.

"No problem," he muttered softly before capturing his mouth again. He was surprised to realize how much he liked kissing Jackosn. He had soft, firm lips, and he let Stiles have control. It was great.

They lingered there for a few minutes, on their knees, facing each other and sharing kisses. Then the world started to flood back. Stiles realized his pants were still down and he laughed, pulling away from the blonde boy. As he reached down, Jackson's hands brushed his own aside, pulling his pants up for him, zipping and buttoning them. Stiles chuckled.

"Thanks, Jacks..."

He was thanking him for fixing his pants, but he was also thanking him for what he had done for him. They both knew it. Jackson nodded once, acknowledging it.

Stiles smiled and brushed a hand over the other boy's arm. He was glad he had been given this opportunity to see Jackson this way, to develop a different view of him. He wasn't the asshole he pretended to be, it was just a mask he put on. Stiles had always kind of known that, but it was nice actually seeing it for once.

Jackson smiled back, ducking his head almost shyly, and Stiles couldn't resist kissing those amazing lips one last time...

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Derek hummed along with the tune of the song, ignoring the amused looks from his other pack members. He sighed as the song ended. Then told Scott to play it again. He did so, even though he grumbled grumpily about it. Seemed Scott didn't like his choice in music very much.

_I love the way you rake my skin_

_I feel the pain you place inside_

_I need to get your voice out of my head_

_cause I'm that guy you'll never find_

Derek hummed some more, enjoying the song even more the second time around because he knew it was annoying Scott. When the song ended again, the bitching started.

"We dont have to listen to five and twelve now, do we?" Scott asked, soundidng like a whining puppy. Derek rolled his eyes.

"No, Scott. Put it on whatever you want."

Scott beamed and got up, darting over to Allison's car and taking out his CD case. He inserted a CD that Derek didn't recognize and hit play, cranking the music up again. The music wasn't bad, just not his kind of thing.

"What is this?" he asked nonchalantly, Scott beamed again.

"They're called _Lost in Kostko_. They're great huh?"

Derek shrugged. "Meh. They're okay..."

Allison flopped onto the blanket with the other three, grinning broadly.

"Well, _I _think they're amazing. The lead singer is _hot_! He looks_ just like _Scott!" Derek rolled his eyes while Scott kissed his mate lovingly at the compliment. Lydia growled.

"Well _I _think they suck!" Lydia said, reaching over and turning off the stereo, ignoring Scott's warning growl. She turned the radio on and tuned in to a popular rap station. The other three groaned.

"_I don't think so_!" Derek snarled, tuning the station to a lesser known all-music station. It played mostly rock and pop and indie, but some rap, too. Fair for everyone.

"_This _is what it stays on, until Stiles comes back and changes to to something else," Derek said forcefully.

Scott scowled, but the look didn't really fit his sweet puppy dog face.

"Why is it up to _Stiles_?"

Lydia and Allison smiled and shared knowing looks.

"Because its_ Stiles' _stereo, you fucking idiot. And because he's your _dominant_! And because he likes the same kind of music _I _like!"

Scott huffed and flopped backwards on the blanket. Derek glared at him.

"Don't get comfortable, shithead. You're going to find our two wayward pups now. Get going." He growled when Scott barely moved. "Get your ass up!" he snarled and Scott obeyed, slowly, as if purposefully trying to piss him off. He snarled threateningly and Scott moved a little faster. Lydia got up, too, and helped Allison up, and the three of them started walking, heading into the woods in the same place Stiles and Jackson had disappeared, following their scent trail. Derek watched them go, then got up and started to prepare lunch.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Stiles broke the kiss, lapping his tongue over Jackson's swollen bottom lip in farewell. Then he rose to his feet, holding out a hand to help Jackson up. He glanced out over the lake, the only witness to their act, and smiled at how beautiful and inviting it looked.

"Hey, wanna go for a swim?" He asked, obvious enthusiasm in his voice. Jackson looked skeptical.

"Won't it be cold?"

"Well, yeah, but we have wolf-heat remember? I'm sure we'll be fine. And if it gets _too _cold, I'm sure we can come up with a clever way to warm each other up..." he smiled at the way Jackson's eyes flashed at his suggestion, even though he still seemed skeptical.

"But, we don't have anything...to...swim..." Jackson trailed off as Stiles started to take off his cloths. Then he shrugged and followed suit. Stiles was naked a few moments before him, and he ran to the edge of the lake and dove in, resurfacing with a gasp and a yelp. That yelp made Jackson hesitate. He knew it was going to be freezing, and his balls were already receding into his body at the thought.

"C'mon, Jacks! Stop being a pussy! It's not that bad!" Stiles teeth were chattering as he said it. But the words had the deesired effect, nontheless.

Jackson growled, mumbling "pussy my ass" under his breath, then he leapt in. He was glad he was entirely submerged in the water, otherwise he was sure he would've let out an entirely too girly scream. The water was fucking freezing! So cold it burned.

As he resurfaced and turned to glare at Stiles, he realized the guy was laughing. Uproariously.

"Not that bad?" he snarled, hugging his arms around his body as if it would help. Stiles kept laughing.

"I had to get you in somehow!" He splashed the freezing water at Jackson, who tried to dodge it, but failed horribly, the cold making him sluggish.

They started a splash fight. It was childish and immature, but they didn't care, because it kept them both laughing and moving, and that was what helped to warm them up. Then Stiles dunked under the water, disappearing. Jackson tensed, not knowing what was coming. Just as he started to get a little worried that Stiles had been under the water for too long, a hand wrapped around his ankle. His eyes widened, but he didn't have time to react before a strong arm pulled him off his feet and sent him splashing under the water with a splutter. He resurfaced, but didn't see Stiles anywhere still. _What the fuck_?

Then Stiles resurfaced, about twenty feet away, breathing hard and frowning.

"Was that you grabbing my ankle?" He asked Jackson, succeeding in confusing him.

"_What_? I thought you were the one-" he broke off when he saw Stiles cracking up. "Hey! Shut up!"

Stiles continued to cackle.

"What's so funny?"

Stiles quieted and the two boys jerked their heads around towards the edge of the lake. There was Lydia, approaching the water, Allison and Scott close behind. As they got to the stone the boys' clothes had been discarded on. Scott looked down, noticing the piles, and poked one of them a little with his foot.

"You two are skinny dipping?" he asked incredulously. "Isn't it_ cold_?"

Stiles laughed again, and Jackson pretended to shiver and chatter his teeth, looking at Lydia with puppy dog eyes.

"Freezing!" a small smile stretched his mouth. "Come warm me up, babe...?"

Lydia's lips twitched up in an odd smile. She looked at the two boys with her hands on her hips. Stiles didn't like how much this girl could see. It felt like she was looking right through him, but he didn't waver under her stare, staring back until she turned to glance at Scott and Allison, as if trying to decide something.

Then she turned back around, and her expression became her normal sly smile.

"You don't mind if we join you...do you, Stiles?" Lydia called, as she started to unbutton the top of her dress so she could slide it over her head. Stiles' mouth watered.

"No, of course not. Why would I mind? Do _you_ mind, Jackson?" Jackson shook his head, eyes staying on Lydia, like Stiles' were.

"_We_?" Scott asked incredulously as he turned to look at Allison. His puppy dog eyes widened when he saw her unbuttoning her jeans. She paused when she saw his expression, then she smiled and shrugged and continued removing her clothes.

They had never all seen each other fully naked. Half naked, yes. In nothing but underwear, yes. Just in ripped clothing that didn't hide much, yes. But never _fully _naked.

The girls took off their cloths, tossing them on the pile of the boys' cloths. Scott stood there gaping and stammering as they both streaked past him and dove into the lake, while Stiles and Jackson whooped and cheered.

Allison resurfaced and turned to look at Scott, backstroking and letting her breasts break the surface of the water. Stiles watched as his best friend's eyes darkened with lust, and he almost laughed out loud.

"C'mon, Scott, what are you waiting for?" Allison murmured in a sex-laden voice.

_Sneaky little minx, using sex to manipulate_...She had been hanging around Lydia for too long.

He glanced at Lydia to see her and Jackson drawing closer to each other. When their mouths met, Stiles almost groaned. The same mouth that had been wrapped around his cock less than half an hour ago was now being licked by Lydia's tongue. _Gawd, why is that so fucking hot?_

Their mouths broke apart, and Lydia turned to look at Stiles and licked her lips. A shudder wracked his body and she smiled. He wasn't even surprised that she knew what they had done, and wasn't bothered by it. He shook his head in disbelief and turned back to look at his friend, who was quickly shucking off his jeans, already bare-chested. He tossed his cloths onto the growing pile and dove into the water before anyone could get a good look...and all four of them were trying to.

He immediately swam over to Allison, but she let out a shriek of laughter and dove away from him, giggling and dipping under the water. Stiles smiled at them as they frolicked and played like puppies, Scott trying to catch Allison and get what she had promised him, and her just teasing him more and swimming away from him.

He couldn't help but wonder where Derek was, but didn't want to ask.

He looked over to see Lydia staring at him. Jackson was watching Allison and Scott and laughing.

"Before we left to come find you two, Derek said he had to do something and that he'd be along in a few minutes," Lydia informed him with a knowing smile. He was really beginning to hate that look. He glared.

"So? What makes you think _I _care?" Stiles demanded. Lydia laughed. Now Jackson was looking back and forth between the two of them curiously. Stiles rolled his eyes and slashed his hand against the water quickly, sending a wide, hard spray of water toward them, splashing both of them. Lydia gaped at him, face dripping wet. Jackson laughed and splashed him back, and Lydia joined in, thus starting another round of splash fighting. After a few minutes, Scott and Allison joined them, and soon the two couples were ganging up on Stiles. He growled at the unfairness of it, and was about to protest when he heard a splash.

All five of them froze, looking to the shore. Stiles hadn't realized how far they had gotten out into the lake. The water was up to his chest now, instead of his waist, so he really should have noticed. They didn't see anything, but there was a small ripple in the water. Just as he was about to turn back around and execute a surprise attack on his distracted friends, a dark head surfaced in the water a few feet away, startling him.

Derek grinned at them. Actually _grinned_. They were all surprised at his sudden appearance, and just stood there staring for a moment. Stiles was a little disappointed he hadn't got to watch Derek strip off his clothes, he had been looking forward to that when Lydia told him Derek was going to join them. He opened his mouth to greet his Alpha, but before he could speak, Derek slashed his hand against the water, much as Stiles had done, sending a wide arc of water toward his pack. It splashed everyone except Stiles.

"Four against one is far from fair," he said in a growling voice, lips still turned up slightly. Stiles could see the playful light shining in his eyes and marveled at this version of Derek, one he had never seen before. His Alpha never failed to surprise him.

"Four against two isn't so fair, either," Scott said with a laugh, splashing him back. Derek's soft smile turned into a mischevious smirk as he sent another hard arc of water at his fleeing pack members, managing to splash them all once more, despite their attempts to dodge.

"It's fair if _I _am one of the two," he said with a bark of laughter as he and Stiles went after the other four pack members in earnest. The girls shrieked and tried to escape, giving up on their game, but the boys fought back valiantly, barely managing to get a splash in here and there. Stiles hardly had to do any of the work at all, and he found himself looking over at the girls more and more during the fight.

The were in the more shallow part of the lake, so the water only came halfway up on their breasts, dipping below every now and then as they moved and the water sloshed. They stood close together, talking in low voices and laughing, touching each other on the arm or the side or the shoulder every now and then. Their skin was slick and wet, their hair hung in long wet tangled tendrils. Stiles thought they looked like sexy little water nymphs, and he ached to join them, even though both their mates were only a few feet away.

A splash of water hit him in the face, jarring him out of his aroused thoughts, and he jerked around to face the guys, who were all looking at him with amused expressions.

"We're over here, dude. You're leaving yourself open for attack," Scott said with a chuckle. He looked at the other guys for a moment before a grin spread across his face and he started shooting jets of water at them again, and Derek, too. Soon it was one on one. Stiles had better luck hitting Derek than Scott and Jackson had, and he told himself he wasn't turning against his teamate just because he wanted to see Derek all slick and dripping wet, even though he knew that was the case. He lured the boys further into the shallow part of the lake, and splashed the girls, getting them back in on the fight, too, now that it was one on one.

The pack was having a blast, and they played in the lake for almost an hour, splashing and competing in games of Marco Polo, which were even more fun than the human version because it added a bit of a challenge when the person seeking you could hear any small movement you made in the water.

The scents weren't quite as strong because of the constant wash of the water, but they were still there, and when Stiles was the seeker he always tried to target the packmates he preferred to be naked agianst, so that when he dove on top of them to capture them, it wasn't so awkward. As the game wound down, Scott was the seeker. Stiles made the mistake of being a little too loud as he tried to sneak past him, and Scott dove on him. He got a chest-full of his best friend's penis and decided he was done playing. Everyone laughed, even Scott who was flushed red as a lobster.

Stiles watched as Derek glanced up at the sun.

"It's lunch time, anyway," Derek said, making his way toward the bank and expecting his pack to follow him. Scott and Jackson were close behind, but Stiles and the girls lingered further behind a little as the three of them climbed out of the water. The girls giggled together at the sight of the three soaking wet shapely behinds, and Stiles rolled his eyes, but didn't pretend he wasn't checking them out, too.

The boys picked up their clothes and started to put them on over wet skin as Stiles and the girls clambered out of the water. Allison seemed shy and hid behind Scott as she got dressed, but Lydia didn't care who saw her. Stiles couldn't help noticing the searing hot gaze of the Alpha on him as he dressed, his own eyes on Lydia. Derek seemed to be the only one _not_ looking at Lydia. It was such a clear victory that Stiles couldn't keep the huge smile off his face.

He glanced over at Derek, who seemed a little grumpy for some reason- which was nothing new- and he laughed as he pulled on the shirt, enjoying the scent of Derek on the material as it enveloped him. When he looked at the rest of his packmates, he noticed that Derek and the now-clothed Lydia were sharing a significant look, and Jackson was shifting from foor to foot looking a little nervous. He poked Jackson in the side to get his attention, then glanced at Scott and Allison before he started walking, heading back towards the Hale house.

His stomach was rumbling desperately now, craving food, and he knew Derek was right, it was definitely time for lunch. He didn't even glance back to see Derek and Lydia drawing closer together with low murmers. He didn't really care. Jackson bumped shoulders with him as they walked, and he glanced over at the blonde with a grin. Scott and Allison trailed behind them a few feet, being all cuddly and lovey dovey as usual. He barely noticed that Derek and Lydia weren't following them, as he was intent on getting back to start lunch for his pack...

**For all those who don't know, **_**Lost in Kostko**_** is Tyler Posey's (Scott) band. Thought it would be funny to add that in... :D**

**Hope you guys liked it! Please let me know what you think. How did I do with the Stiles/Jackson scene? Did it make sense in relation to everything else? I tried to explain it as a sub/dom thing... I want it to make sense! I'm not writing a PWP here! lol**


	11. Chapter 11: Time Is Running Out

**I know I promised the Stiles/Jackson thing wouldn't mess things up between Stiles and Derek... and this chapter may make it seem like I lied... but I promise, I didn't! Just wait!**

**SONG: Time Is Running Out - **_**Muse**_

Stiles entered the clearing that surrounded the house and was surprised at the sight that awaited him. The bunnies that were meant for lunch were already chopped into bite-sized pieces and piled on the table. Sitting next to the pile of rabbit meat was a bag of fresh vegetables that had come out of nowhere; Stiles hadn't seen them before. Their biggest pot was placed on the grill, which was stoked with hot coals and faintly smoldering, causing a delicious smell to rise out of the pot. Stiles was curious and his he walked over to take a peek at what was inside. It was full of water and what looked like a mixture of different herbs of some kind. There were bubbles starting in the bottom of the pot, indicating that the water would be boiling soon.

His stereo was on, sitting on the open back of his jeep. He rolled his eyes at the choice of station. Sounded like something Derek would pick, "to be fair for everyone." That wasn't happening. His stereo, his music. He retrieved a CD case from the front of his car, under his seat since he rarely used it. He flipped through, ignoring Scott's shouted suggestions.

"What's with the pot of water?" Stiles asked no one in particular as he flipped through his CDs.

"Derek said he was going to start lunch..." Allison said, shrugging.

"Hmmmm.." was Stiles' only reply. Derek and Lydia still hadn't come out of the woods, and he wondered what was going on. There was no doubt that Lydia knew what had happened between them. Was she telling Derek? Did he already know? _Why _did Stiles care what Derek thought, again? Besides the fact that he was his Alpha, of course... Derek didn't want him enough to do anything with _him _like what he had done with Jackson, so why would he care?

He chose a _Muse _CD, one he hadn't listened in ages, and inserted it, pressing play. He left the stereo where it was and went to relax on the blanket once more. If Derek wanted to make lunch, he could go right ahead.

The other two boys flopped down with him, Jackson on one side and Scott stretched out above the two of them. The sun had changed positions in the sky, and the oak tree above them no longer provided much shade. Stiles was glad the sun was beating down on them, now. They were still wet underneath their damp clothing, and the breeze gave them shivers. The sun was warming and would help them to dry quicker.

The girls started to chop the vegetables from the bag, and Stiles was just happy to have someone else do the cooking for once. He relaxed into the relative softness of the worn old blanket and let the music sweep over him, humming along.

_Bury it  
>I won't let you bury it<br>I won't let you smother it  
>I won't let you murder it<em>

_And our time is running out_  
><em>And our time is running out<em>  
><em>You can't push it underground<em>  
><em>Can't stop it screaming out<em>

_I wanted freedom_  
><em>Found I'm restricted<em>  
><em>I tried to give you up<em>  
><em>But I'm addicted<em>

Stiles bobbed his head to the music and couldn't help but see the similarities to the song and to his 'relationship' with Derek. He hated when he thought like that, it was so girly and cliched, but that didn't keep the thoughts out of his head. He sighed.

"I like this song," Jackson purred, turning to face him, rolling toward him a little. Stiles looked down at him, breath shuddering out, not being able to help the images that sprang unbidden to his mind, memories of what they had done. His eyes dropped to Jackson's mouth and he licked his lips.

"Yeah..." he rolled a little closer to Jackson, and their eyes were locked on each others mouths. Jackson brought his hand up and stroked it down Stiles' belly... and Stiles heard a deep snarl from across the clearing. The sound registered a second before he heard Scott scrambling to get up from the blanket behind him. He glanced back at him, wondering what his problem was, but Scott was nowhere to be seen. He heard a terrified little whimper come from Jackson, and felt hot breath on his neck, and he turned back around, yelping in shock to see Derek crouched over him and Jackson, eyes buring red and fangs bared.

He had the two of them trapped in between his forearms, hovering over them, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. Jackson was terrified, and even though both he and Stiles were baring their necks in submission, Stiles was furious. He had wanted to make Derek jealous, had wanted to make him angry, but now that he had, he had pissed himself off more than he thought he would. Derek had no reason to be angry, and if he thought he did then he was sadly mistaken. Stiles' plan had backfired on him and only managed to show him exactly what he didn't have, instead of the other way around.

Derek was trembling with rage above him. Why was he so pissed off? If he wanted Stiles so much, cared about him so much, why didn't he just fucking show it? Why wouldn't he just admit to it? Maybe he didn't want him, he just didn't want anyone else to want him, either. Maybe he only wanted him when it was convenient, when he felt like it, only wanted him for one thing. Maybe he thought he wasn't worth anything else.

A low growl started to rumble in Stiles' own chest at those thoughts. He could tell Derek was close to losing it, to showing his pack how very out of control he was, revealing that he had a weakness... and Stiles didn't care. He wasn't going to help him this time, unless not doing so meant letting one of his packmates come to harm. Derek was on his own. Stiles was tired of keeping his secrets.

Jackson was still whimpering, and Stiles soothed a hand down his arm, trying to reassure him. The contact seemed to just piss Derek off more, and his hands clawed into the blanket, tearing, his eyes on the point where Stiles' hand touched Jackson's skin.

"_You_," he snarled, voice impossibly deep and growling, "Have a mate," he was talking to Jackson. One clawed hand wrapped around Jackson's ankle from behind Derek's back, and he yanked him out from under himself and into the dead leaves as Jackson yelped. "Go to her," he snarled, and Jackson rushed to obey, scurrying over to Lydia on his hands and knees. He turned back to Stiles.

"And _you_-"

"Me, _what_?" Stiles snapped, scowling furiously, glaring into Derek's burning red eyes. Those eyes slowly faded until they were only faintly tinged red, his fangs disappeared, and his claws. He began to look a little guilty. But he didn't say anything else, which only pissed Stiles off more. "That's what I fucking thought!" he snarled, pushing roughly against Derek's chest, growling at him to let him up, until he moved one of his arms and let Stiles roll to his feet.

He stalked towards his jeep.

_Yeah you will suck  
>The life out of me<em>

_Bury it_  
><em>I wont let you bury it<em>  
><em>I wont let you smother it<em>  
><em>I wont let you murder it<em>

_And our time is running out_

_And our time is running out_  
><em>You can't push it underground<em>  
><em>You can't stop it screaming out<em>

_How did it come to this?_

The stereo seemed to be mocking him. He picked it up and threw it to the ground with a snarl. The CD skipped once, but kept playing, so he kicked it, sending it flying toward Derek's head. He didn't look to see if he hit his target or not as he slammed the back door of his jeep closed, hard, and walked around to climb into the driver's seat.

"Hey, where are you going, man?" Scott called, actual concern on his face. Stiles scoffed and shook his head. He didn't seem to care any other time, what was so different now?

"I'll be back," was all he said before peeling out. He glanced in the rearview mirror only once and regretted it. All his pack mates were staring after him, forlorn looks on their faces, and his Alpha... Derek had his hands clutched in his hair, hands that were claws, and his whole body was tensed. As he circled the bend and his pack drifted out of sight, he heard an anguished howl echo through the trees. He tried not to dwell on the sound of that howl, the raw emotion in it, and what it might mean. He just needed to get away from it.

He didn't say _when _he'd be back, but didn't think it was going to be any time that day. He needed some space from Derek, some room to breathe and to think...

**Short chapter, I know. Next one will be longer... and might possible have a little Sterek smut in it... but I'm NOT making any promises, I have to see how things go and if the two want to do anything, I must consult them, lmao...**

**Please review! Your helpful words are the gasoline that keeps the fire of my writing burning hot!... does that make sense? lol**


	12. Chapter 12: Orion & Dog

**Sorry for the long wait you guys! Thanks everyone for all the support you have given me, and all the ideas and help! I should be back on track now... even though my computer is still having problems. I have been gutted once more, unfortunately. The exact same thing happened, and I lost the beginning of Chapter Fourteen. It's okay, though, because I remembered exactly what I had written. I am trying to remember to make copies of all my documents now, in case it happens again.**

**I took awhile to grasp what I was trying to get across before, but now that I have, I hope it doesn't disappoint anyone.**

**SONG: Orion & Dog - **_**Sea Wolf**_

Derek was sitting on the rickety wooden chair in his room, avoiding the rest of his pack. He tried not to think about Stiles, about the pain and the anger and the confusion on his face, about the way he had spoken to him. But it was impossble not to think of him, especially since the scent of him still lingered in the small space. Especially since he was clutching the scraps of Stiles' shirt in his hand, rubbing the fabric between his fingers, inhaling the smell that wafted from them. Stiles had kicked a stereo at him. It would have hit him, too, if he hadn't ducked right at the last minute. What was Stiles feeling at that moment that he wanted to hurt him? It should have pissed Derek off, but instead it just upset him. Why was going on in that complex head of his?

He balled up the fabric in his hand and tossed it across the room with a growl, hoping the distance would eliminate the smell. It only weakened it a little, but Derek could still smell the scent of Stiles' arousal all over the fabric, even from across the room. He growled again and buried his face in his hands, clutching his hair.

Derek could never give in to Stiles like he wanted him to, could never have what he wanted from the kid. Stiles was too young. He was a boy. He was the sherriff's son. He was too loud and too talkative and too fucking happy and optimistic. He was clever and strategic and manipulative when he needed to be. He wasn't right for Derek. Derek was too grumpy and quiet and serious. And the entire fucking town still saw him as a psycho. The sherriff's son and the psycho. They just werent compatable.

The moon was beginning to rise, and he could hear his other pack members outside, getting ready for their run. They called out to him every now and then, trying to get him to join them, but he just ignored them. It was for their own good. If he lost control, if he flew into a rage, he didn't want to hurt them. Stiles wasn't here to protect them from the monster. And, once they paired off with each other to go have their roll in the leaves, where would he be with no Stiles to keep him company?

They wouldn't come up to his room to get him, of course. They knew better than to invade the Alpha's territory. Knew better than a certain mischevious 'wolf where their place was, and it wasn't in the Alpha's bedroom. But there were two plates of food outside his door, from lunch and dinner. Lydia had brought them up and put them there. He hadn't touched either one. He had no interest in food at the moment, even if his stomach was grumbling furiously and telling him differently.

He had wanted to talk to the pack about the Danny-situation over lunch, but all thoughts of that had been expelled from his mind at that look on Stiles' face. It was Pack Business, he shouldn't have been able to forget it that easily. But that's what Stiles did to him. He was a weakness.

The look on his face just kept playing over and over again in Derek's head, like a skipping CD.

Derek thought he was just giving him what he wanted. But, apparently, the kid didn't know what it was he wanted. Maybe that was Derek's fault... What was he thinking? He didn't even know any more. His head was all over the place.

He never wanted to see that look again. His face was so expressive. He could never hide what he was feeling, no matter how hard he tried. That face always gave him away. He'd never seen a look on his face anything like that before. Those warm brown eyes filling with cold anger, facial muscles contorting in hurt and pain and frustration...

His mind was still scattered. He wanted Stiles, but didn't want to want him. He needed him, but didn't want to admit it. Stiles meant something to him, more than just a pack member or a Head Beta, or even a friend, but he tried to ignore the fact.

He just wasn't ready for any sort of romantic relationship, not the kind he knew Stiles wanted from him. Wasn't ready to give himself to another person. The last time he had done that, had trusted someone, it had gotten his family killed. This was a different situation, of course, but he didn't want to go through any sort of pain like that ever again. He couldn't let himself be that weak. Could never let himself love again.

The only problem with that was, he _wanted _to love Stiles. He just didn't know what he was supposed to do about it. He didn't want to hurt the kid, but he had a feeling that's what would happen. Derek always ended up hurting everyone he... cared about. But if he didn't do something, he knew he would lose Stiles forever. He could very easily just give up on Derek and move on to someone else. He went on dates with girls all the time. He hadn't clicked with any of them yet, but Derek knew it was only a matter of time.

Maybe he should just let that happen, though. Stiles would be better off having a human female mate than wasting his time with Derek, anyway. It wasn't like either of them could ever get anything out of a relationship together in the long run, right? They could never have pups. Derek would never have an Alpha Female. Derek would eventually be seen as weak for not producing an heir. He would be challenged, whether by a 'wolf from his own pack, a lone 'wolf, or another Alpha looking to expand and gain more power.

He knew this, but he couldn't just let Stiles go. That was not an option. They would figure something out. He just needed to make sure he wasn't going to lose him. He'd do what he needed to do, to keep Stiles in his life, to keep Stiles from giving up on him. He couldn't let his guard down completely, couldn't let himself trust immediately, couldn't let himself love, but _maybe _he could work up to it, and he could at least give the boy something, let him know how he felt... sort of.

He had to go see Stiles. Had to do something, to apologize or _something_. The kid hadn't come back, even though he'd said he would. The rest of the pack had already left, leaving their Alpha all alone. Stiles was at home, all alone, too. They were both alone, so they might as well be alone together.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

Stiles stood under the hard beating water of the shower. The heat was turned all the way up with no cold. It burned his skin a little, but his werewolf healing immediately healed the scalds. He enjoyed the sensation. Painful burning heated pleasure. He had been clean an hour ago, but still he stood. The water wasn't a calming element for him like it was for Scott, it wasn't a comfort, exactly. It just felt nice.

He had come home to an empty house, but that was nothing new. Scott had texted him a handful of times, but he hadn't replied. He wanted to cut off contact with the rest of the pack for awhile, get some room to breathe.

Or, get away from Derek, anyway. The pack wasn't the problem. The little incident with Jackson hadn't meant anything significant. It was just strengthening of pack bonds, asserting dominance, Jackson accepting his own submission and Stiles' dominance. It was fun, and it felt good, and yeah, he and Jacks were a little more affectionate now... But that was good for pack dynamics, wasn't it? He knew it was, so why had Derek freaked out? Yeah, Stiles had thought about making him jealous, but hadn't thought _that_ would do the trick. Technically, it should have been Lydia freaking out, but she didnt seem to care one bit. She actually seemed to like it, oddly enough. Kinky bitch.

His Ipod was playing in his room, connected to the speakers, volume turned up enough so he could hear it over the water, with the bathroom door cracked. His window was open, but it was only because he was trying to air the room out, get rid of the faint scent of Derek that still lingered, not because he hoped Derek would come to see him or anything like that. One of the reasons he was taking so long in the shower was because he was hoping the smell would be gone by the time he got out. The shirt that he had been wearing- Derek's shirt, with Jackson's scent on the bottom hem- was stuffed into the bowels of his hamper, underneath all his other dirty cloths, and wrapped in his unwashed sheets. It had helped with the smell so far, and it would remain there until he could wash it.

His _Sea Wolf_ playlist had cycled through almost ten times since he had been in the shower. It was on the second to last song once more, now. He loved the band, but hated that now they reminded him of Derek. The Alpha was the last thing Stiles wanted to think about at the moment. He knew he would go back to the pack sometime tomorrow, act as if everything was okay and back to normal, and go on the full moon run with them, like nothing had ever happened. It would never be mentioned again, especially not by Derek. He would try to avoid being alone with his Alpha, but it mostly likely wouldn't work. He would inevitably be drawn back in, and he woulnd't be able to resist, and he would probably make the same mistake again. He was certain this was how things were going to go.

As the hot water started to lose it's scalding heat, he knew it was time to get out of the shower. He was already prune-y enough anyhow. So he twisted the knob, turning off the hot water, and yanked the shower curtain opened. He grabbed his towel from the rack on the wall and scrubbed it over his body, stepping out of the tub and onto the bathmat. He wiped his feet off, but his body was still dripping wet as he walked out of the bathroom into his bedroom, rubbing the towel over his head and face.

He heard a faint noise and jerked the towel down quickly to investigate. As soon as the scent hit his nostrils, as soon as he saw who was in his room, as soon as he grasped the situation, he was quickly wrapping the towel around his waist and knotting it at his hip, a faint flush of embarassment coloring his skin.

"What are you doing here, Derek?" he murmured, trying to keep his voice from wavering, keep a scowl on his face. Derek's face was carefully expressionless, and Stiles envied him that ability. He was usually either scowling, glaring, ot completely blank. He managed to keep all his expressions hidden. Stiles hated it _and_ he envied it. He had tried to control his expressions, but had never been able to do so successfully. He knew that wasn't an ability he would ever master.

His Alpha had just crawled in through the open window and was standing at the side of Stiles' bed. He didn't say anything for a minute, then he smirked in a way that made Stiles want to shudder.

"Wasn't the window open for _me?" _Derek said, voice silky and arrogant. Stiles glared some more, then gave a little growl.

"_No_..."

Derek quirked his brow in a way that said, _'then why?'_

"It was hot, okay? That's all, it was just stuffy, I needed fresh air... but that didn't answer my question! What are you doing here?" Stiles hated it when Derek changed the subject to throw him off. He had always done it, and was was good at it, even now that it had become harder to do. Old habits died hard.

Derek's face became blank again and Stiles growled again. He knew it was a defense mechanism on the Alpha's part, but it was irritating as fuck. Derek sat on the edge of the bed, still silent, just looking at Stiles, who was becoming very impatient.

"If you're here for a reason... if you're gonna... Damn it! If you've got something to say then _say _it, because I've got somehwere to be." Stliles finally snapped. Derek frowned. Expression number four in his limited arsenal.

"Where are you going?" Derek asked, finally noticing the cloths layed out on the bed. Nice clothes... date clothes.

"I have a date," Stiles muttered, confirming Derek's suspicion, moving toward the bed to retrieve the clothes. Derek's hand shot out and grabbed the clothes before Stiles could. Stiles' head snapped up, mouth opening in shock, and he scowled.

"No." Derek said simply, firmly, using his Alpha Voice. Stiles averted his eyes, but growled deeply.

"Why not?" he snarled. Derek grappled for an answer for a minute.

"Beacuse...it's, it's too close to the full moon. You could shift, you could lose control, do something you'll regret, reveal too much..." He knew he sounded lame, that it wasn't a fear with Stiles, unless it was the night of the full moon. The kid was fully in control of his wolf, which was more than Derek could say for himself, now. He had been on dates the night before, other times. Stiles scoffed and shook his head.

"That is _bullshit_! I have better control than you do right now, and you know it! I've done this before and it's never been a problem..."

"Well, now it's a problem!" Derek hated that he was yelling, hated that he could feel his eyes flash red, and that Stiles actually flinched minutely before his face hardened and his fists tightened. Derek growled, at himself, at the situation, at Stiles for going on a date... He thrust the clothes at Stiles.

"Fine, _here_, damn it! Go on your stupid date," he snarled, and Stiles snatched the clothes from his hands before fleeing into the bathroom to finish drying off and get dressed.

"I won't go, if you tell me the real reason why you don't want me to," Stiles muttered from the bathroom as he got dressed. Derek heard him, of course. He didn't say anything. Stiles would have though he was gone, except he could still smell the scent very strongly; wind and pine needles, burnt wood and the lake and musky wolf. The smell hadn't diminished in strength at all, so he knew Derek was still there.

He finished dressing and took a deep breath, glancing at himself in the mirror and smoothing his hair down before coming out of the bathroom. He barely glanced at Derek, who was still sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the window now, as if he would swing through it and disappear at any moment. Stiles sat in his computer chair to pull on his socks and shoes, one foot at a time, then he stood up and pocketted his keys with the 'Save the Wolves!' keychain dangling from them. He stood by the door and looked at Derek, who was looking at him now, but still had not said a word. They stared at eachother for almost a minute. Stiles fidgeted, but the man didn't move or speak, just looked at him. Stiles eventually rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"Well, bye then." He said, turning to open his door.

"Wait." The voice was commanding, hard, but with a slight undertone of desperation. Stiles froze.

"Stay here... with me..." The desperation was stronger now, most of the command gone from the tone. Stiles slowly turned.

"Why?" he asked. He needed a litle more than that.

Derek growled in exasperation and scrubbed his hands over his face. Stiles almost laughed. He wasn't expecting much, no declaration of love or claiming of a mate. Derek acted as if Stiles had asked him some horribly difficult question.

"I _want_ you to, damn it!" Derek snapped finally. Then he softened his voice and added, "I _need _you... to," The words seemed forced out, and Derek was fidgeting uncomfortably, though he was still looking directly at Stiles, making eye contact. That was enough for Stiles. He didn't think he had ever seen his Alpha look so uncomfortable.

Needed him? Derek needed him? How? In what way? To help keep him in control? As his Head Beta? As a friend? A lover? A thousand questions and thoughts flashed through Stiles' mind, crowding it, threatening to spill out of his mouth in a spew of words. He somehow managed to keep it all in, swallow it, knowing if he let it _any _of it out, it would probably just scare off his Alpha. He could tell that the small admission had been hard enough for the man, and he already looked ready to bolt.

_Okay_. If he needed him, then Stiles was more than happy to oblige. He crossed the room and crawled across the bed from the other side.

"I won't go," he murmured, feet hanging over the bed as he pushed his shoes off. He drew closer to Derek, breathing in his scent deeply, inhaling him like a drug. Derek kept looking at him, hadn't looked away once.

"C'mere," Derek growled, reaching forward to fist a hand in Stiles' shirt and pull him close, crashing their lips together in a hard kiss...

**I don't mean to torment you guys... okay, well I **_**kinda **_**do, but not that much! I know I've made you wait, but I'm sure you can wait a little more! I won't take as long this time, I promise. The conclusion to this chapter will be chapter fourteen.**

**Some heterosexual smut is coming up next, so... YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED :)**

**Oh, yeah, and please review and let me know what you guys think!**


	13. Chapter 13: Into the Night

**WARNING: STRAIGHT SEX!**

**Don't like it then skip this chapter. It's just smut, no plot mentioned. I would reccomend reading anyway :)**

**I did mention, in the first chapter, that there would be male/male, male/female, and female/female. So don't be shocked and/or angry about this, it's not my fault you didn't pay attention...**

**SONG: Into the Night - **_**Santana & Nickelback**_

Scott and Allison ran alongside each other, their legs working in synch, keeping them at the same pace. They glanced at each other every now and then and laughed as they leapt over stones and logs, the wind whipping around them. They were so close to being out of control, but it wasn't the full moon yet, just the night before. They were right on the edge of human and wolf.

Lydia and Jackson had disappeared half an hour ago, almost as soon as they four of them had started their run, breaking off on their own. The pack usually ended up paired off by the end of the night, anyway, but not usually so soon. It was different since Stiles and Derek weren't with them.

Scott wasn't upset, though. It gave him more time with Allison, which was always good. He could never get enough of Allison. Her scent wrapped around him, intoxicating him, and he could tell she wanted him. It was nothing new, but it sped his pulse and made his heart race anyway.

She laughed and put on a burst of speed, rushing past him, and he slowed down a fraction to let her get ahead a little. They loved the chase and pounce game. But it was always more fun when it lasted longer. So he dropped back and let her get almost out of sight before he gave chase.

She was trying not to laugh as she ran, but there was a huge smile on her face. He could smell her arousal growing stronger, and the way it affected him made it harder to run. He put on a burst of speed, hoping to catch her, but she dodged around a tree and he almost crashed right into it. He heard her musical laugh as she sped off, and he stopped for a second to get his bearings. When he turned around he didn't see her. He cursed and started sniffing her out, walking forward a little.

The wind was blowing toward him, and he didn't smell her anywhwere else, so he turned around and walked into the wind, knowing that was the only direction she could be. She had doubled back and gone around him. Crafty litte she-wolf.

He walked about fifteen yards before he caught her scent again, her trail leading towards the lake. He took off at a dead run, knowing if she got into the water he would never be able to scent her out. He turned into the wind and got a huge whiff of her, right ahead. He was downwind, and knew she wouldn't smell him, so he crept up silently, peering through the branches of a tall bush.

Allison stood in front of the water, shimmying out of her jeans. Her shirt and bra were already lying near her on the ground. She stood in only her lacy little white panties, and he began to salivate. He could smell the arousal rolling off of her in fragrant waves. As she kicked her jeans aside, she turned around, and he almost groaned at the sight of her bare breasts bathed in the moonlight, tipped in tight, hard pink nipples that were just begging to be licked. The wind shifted slightly, and she seemed to perk up, then her dark gaze settled on the bush that Scott was hiding behind, and her eyes shone gold. She smiled in that way of hers that made him instantly hard- _fuck, she should not be able to smile like that, it's not fair_- and she slowly slid her panties down her legs, kicking them aside onto the pile of the rest of her cloths.

Scott whimpered and rushed out from behind the bush, leaping toward her. She turned and dove into the water in one smooth move. He growled, his arms closing on air, stumbling a little. A dark head broke the surface of the water, and she turned to look at him, her amber eyes burning, and she was still smiling that inviting, I'm-going-to-make-all-your-wildest-fantasies-come-true, smile. He started to strip off is cloths, in such a rush that he ripped the neck of his shirt and accidentally twisted off the button of his jeans.

He could see the steam rising off of Allison in the freezing water. He was hesitant of the cold, but he would follow Allison anywhere, to Hell and back if that's where she wanted to go.

Finally naked, he dove into the water without a second thought. He expected Allsion to swim away, teasing him, as she had done earlier in the day, but instead she came right toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He sighed at the heat of her skin against his, fending off the cold. Foggy steam rose all around them from their heat, setting a sort of mood. Two pairs of golden eyes met through the fog, and Scott pulled her toward him, pressing her tigher against him.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and they both gasped as his hard length pressed between her legs. He nipped at her neck and collarbone, and she turned her head to the side, whimpering and nuzzling against his face, nipping his ear, licking the outer shell. He groaned and gripped her hips hard in his hands, rubbing her up and down on his cock, making her whimper even more.

He reached down under the water and grasped his cock, sliding it up and down her slit, teasing her clit with the head. She trembled- though he wasn't sure if it was because of him or because she was cold- and she moaned against his neck before she sank her teeth into it, marking him. He couldn't take it. He positioned himself and thrust into her, delighting in the arch of her back and her gasp. He leaned down and lapped at a nipple that was exposed above the water as he moved inside of her.

She moaned encouragingly and he closed his teeth over the hard nub, loving how she clutched desperately at his hair and ground her pelvis against his, pushing his cock even deeper.

Allison had been his first. First everything. Fisrt kiss, first love, first fuck. First girlfriend if you didn't count Georgina in third grade, who he only ever held hands with, and who moved away the summer before fourth grade. But why was he thinking about that now?

He didn't know if he was Allison's first. He had been afraid to ask, and was too inexperienced to tell the difference. She didn't offer the information. It made him suspicious, but he didn't question her. All that mattered was that it was him she smelled like now, his marks on her, his dick inside her. She was his no matter what. And he had learned in a very short time exactly what she liked, exactly how to please her.

He held her hips tight against his as he nibbled at her breast. She tried to move her hips, but he wouldn't let her. Just as she was about to complain, he switched to her other nipple, nipping it roughly, and he rolled his hips in a circle, cock rubbing deep inside of her. She gasped, her back arching again as she groaned his name. He grinned. He loved it when she did that. When she said his name like that.

He rewarded her by pulling out a little and then thrusting back in hard, grinding his pelvis agianst her clit as he pulled her close, moving his mouth up to her neck to lick and suck. She groaned again, a little louder, and tightened her fingers in his hair, making his scalp sting. He hissed in _pleasurepain _and bit into the flesh of her neck, at the top of her shoulder.

Then he started to thrust, teeth buried in her. Her hands moved out of his hair and down to his back. She clutched him for leverage, digging her nails into his flesh as she moved with him, emitting little whimpering moans that were driving him crazy.

"Harder, Scott, _harder_... oh, god please... so good..." Scott loved how vocal Allison was at times like this, loved her whimpers and her moans, her saying his name. It was all so fucking hot, and he wondered how he had gone so long without her in his life. It seemed impossible, almost as if he couldn't remember a time when she hadn't been there. Which was ridiculous, because he had known her for less than a year.

His thrusts became harder, quicker, and he released her flesh so he wouldn't tear it too much, even though he knew she loved it when he did that. He just didn't like to make her bleed, no matter how much she reassured that she liked it. She kept moaning his name, whimpering and begging and rolling her hips against his. When he saw slivers of her eyes under her heavy lids, they were glowing gold. Her nails lengthened as she neared her orgasm, and they dug harder into his back, deeper, and he moaned at the feeling, nipping at the mark on her neck.

That sent her over the edge, and she bucked hard against him with a howling groan. He could feel her clench tight around him, and she buried her face in his neck, clutching him tight as he fucked her right through her orgasm, pulling her hips tight against his to rub her clit hard against his pelvis again. The slight stimulation made her cry out and come again, and he smirked in self-satisfaction as his thrusts became erratic and he pushed deep once last time, pulsing, coming inside of his mate.

They used to try to be careful about that, tried to use a condom every time, but Derek had told them that condoms weren't as effective against werewolf sperm, for some reason. Scott didn't remember why- he could probably ask Stiles if he really wanted to know. So whether they used one or not, it didn't make much of a difference. They were very young to have already found their mate, but that didn't stop their instinctive animal urges. Scott just hoped that they would at least be out of highschool before Allison got pregnant...

Allison kept her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands were still on his back, but now they were rubbing his skin in soothing circles, and he flinched slightly as they ran over the nail marks, his softened cock twitching at the sensation, still buried inside of Allison. He leaned down and licked her neck, where a bead of sweat was running below her ear. She sighed and nuzzled her face against his. He latched his mouth onto the bite mark and sucked, then laved at it, cleaning it and speeding the healing process. She gasped and trembled at the sensation, and he gently pulled her hips away from his, slipping his cock out of her tight heat and into the freezing water with a shiver.

He turned and started to walk out of the water, with Allison still wrapped around him. He carried her out of the water and onto shore, then placed her on her feet by their cloths. He picked up his shirt and used it to dry her off as best as he could, then he helped her into her cloths. He repeated the process with himself, rubbing the wet shirt over his skin and trying to soak up as much of the water as possible before pulling his boxers and jeans on over still-damp skin. Allison wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her face up, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, sliding her tongue along his top lip. He smiled and nipped at her bottom lip before brushing his tongue gently against hers and pulling away.

"I love you," she whispered, nuzzling against his neck. Scott smiled and tightened his arms around her.

"I love you, too," he murmured into her hair, hugging her against his bare chest.

**Well, what did you guys think? I personally like all kinds of sex, male/male, male/female, or female/female, but I know some people don't, so I hope I didn't offend anyone too much... Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14: Make Me Bad

**Just to make things clear, because I've had a few people PMing me about this stuff: Yes, this is my first ever fanfic, and yes, there will be femslash and probabaly some more straight sex. It's in the warnings in the first chapter! Not my fault if you didn't pay attention! I never once EVER claimed this was strictly male/male _Sterek_! I was only able to pick two characters! I would have chosen them all if I had been able, since this is about all of them! But since Derek and Stiles' relationship is the most prevalent, they are the characters I chose.**

**I let the characters do the writing for me. They tell me what they want to do, and sometimes do things I totally do not expect. Sometimes they will do something I don't even understand, but they explain to me later on when they think I need to know. I AM NOT CRAZY! lol**

**Hope you guys like anyway! **

**SONG: Make Me Bad [Sickness in Salvation mix] - Korn**

Their lips moved against each other hungrily. The kiss was different than any they'd had before, Stiles could feel it, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly why. Derek licked along Stiles' lips, into his mouth, seeming almost desperate as their tongues met. Then he calmed somewhat, and he began to explore Stiles' mouth, as he had never done before. His tongue ran over sharp-edged white teeth, canines that were maybe a bit pointier than they should have been. He stroked along the ridged flesh at the roof of Stiles' mouth, dipped into the soft wet veins under his tongue, stroked along slick cheeks. Stiles slid their tongues together every now and then, but mostly he just kept his own tongue out of the way, leaving Derek to his exploration as his lips moved against his Alpha's.

It was such a strange kiss, but Stiles didn't mind. He liked how Derek was so curious, how he wanted to taste and touch and explore. His hand was still fisted in Stiles' shirt, and Stiles was still on his knees, hands curling agsint Derek's shoulders and holding him close. Stiles thought it was time for him to start losing some of his clothes, and he smiled at the thought as he pulled away from Derek, loving the little noise of protest he made as his tongue slipped out of Stiles' mouth.

He used Derek's grip on his shirt as an anchor, moving his hands down to the bed and crawling backwards, ducking his head and lifting his arms so the material slid easily over his head. The fabric slipped off of him, and he looked up, laughing at the expression of surprise on Derek's face. Then Derek was tossing the shirt aside and grabbing for him again, pulling him close, nuzzling against his neck and scenting him, and Stiles sighed. It wasn't often that Derek was the one to grab him first. He liked it alot. He hoped it was the beginning of a trend.

He pushed against Derek's shoulders, trying to push him back against the bed so he could climb on top, but Derek resisted with a growl, wrapping his arms around Stiles waist and swiftly moving so that Stiles' back was to the bed with _him _on top. Stiles laughed, delighted, and pulled Derek's head down to connect their lips again.

Derek nudged his thighs apart and settled between them, grinding their hips together. Stiles clutched at his hard back and groaned into his mouth at the delicious friction, thrusting back against him. He could have sworn he heard Derek mumble something against his lips, but he couldn't quite make out what he said. Derek's mouth felt perfectly amazing on his, and he never wanted it to end, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he pulled back, breathing hard.

"What?" he breathed. "Did you say something?" Derek just looked at him for a moment, eyes tinged slightly red. Their breaths mingled, both of their chests heaving. Derek's eyes searched his face, lingered on his mouth, then shot back to his eyes. He looked a little troubled. Stiles frowned faintly, opening his mouth, about to ask him what was wrong, but Derek spoke before he could.

"What do you want from me, Stiles?" his voice was low and hoarse, growling, and a little desperate sounding.

Stiles knew what he was asking, but he knew if he told him the whole truth it would just scare him away. He couldn't tell him what he wanted right now, couldn't tell him how he felt. He wasn't even _totally _sure how he felt himself, just that he cared about Derek alot, as more than just a friend or an Alpha. He had been wondering the past couple of days if what Lydia had said was the truth... But he couldn't tell Derek _that_. So he settled for telling him a different truth, hoping to distract him. He pretended to misinterpret him. _Again_.

"I want to suck your cock," he said, voice tremulously pleading. Derek went still, eyes widening slightly, staring down at him. Stiles could see the red expand and start to glow, could smell the scent of his arousal double, triple. Could hear his heart skip and jump, his breath quicken. But he didn't speak. Stiles writhed underneath him and gripped his hips, trying to get him to move, to flip over, SOMETHING so he could get what he wanted. He licked his lips suggestively, and a low whine rose in Derek's throat, but he wouldn't didn't move.

"_Please_, Alpha...please let me suck your cock, please... please..." Stiles whimpered, biting his lip.

A fierce shudder went through Derek, and he buried his face in Stiles' neck, making a raw needy sound as teeth closed over the flesh where neck met shoulder. He bit down, hard, as if marking him. Stiles gasped and whimpered, grinding upward, pressing their hips together and seeking friction. Then Derek was rolling them, moving them so Stiles was on top again.

Stiles looked down at his Alpha, riding his thighs, their cocks so close, but not quite touching. He should have tried the begging thing a _long _time ago. He would remember how well it worked, and he filed it away in his arsenal of weapons against Derek's self control. He smirked mischeviously.

"Was that a yes?" he teased, shoving his hands under Derek's shirt and yanking it up over his head and off. Derek growled as Stiles' hands smoothed over his chest, touching as much of the hot skin as he could get at, flicking a nail teasingly againt a nipple.

"Yes!" he snarled as Stiles dipped his head to taste the skin he was touching, as lips and teeth moved down "_Fuck _yes..." nipping and licking little marks into his skin, tongue circling araund a nipple before teeth bit into it, "God..._yes_..." and he sunk back against the pillows...

Stiles had never had a cock in his mouth before, had never done anything but kiss Derek, had never been with another man at all. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, just that he wanted to give Derek as much pleasure as he could. He briefly wondered if this was what Jackson had felt like, the urge to please and submit singing through every line of his body, making him tremble with the need of it. But he knew it was more than that with he and Derek. He wanted to show his Alpha how much he cared about him, wanted to declare his feelings, but he knew he couldn't do that, because Derek would just run away. Ever since he had arrived, he had this look, like he was right on the verge of fleeing. So Stiles knew he couldn't handle _that _discussion right now...

He didn't really know what he was doing, and nervousness fluttered in his stomach as he nipped at a sharp hip bone, licked along the sensitive skin above a waistband. His hands came up slowly, unbuckling the belt. Derek growled because he was taking too long, so he tried to go faster, fingers fumbling open the button and zipper and yanking the jeans down to his knees quickly.

Derek's cock sprang free, and somehow Stiles wasn't surprised that he wasnt wearing underwear. It seemed like such an arrogant Alpha-male thing to do. The musky scent was heady and intoxicating, and without stopping to think, he leaned forward and engulfed the head of Derek's cock in his mouth. Derek panted and fisted his hands in the bed covers. Stiles took that as a good sign, an encouragement to keep going.

He wasn't sure what to do, but he figured he'd just do what he thought _he _might like, if anyone had ever bothered to ask him. The few girls that had tried doing this for him had been tentative and inexperienced. They pretty much just wrapped their hand around the shaft and sucked on the head. Not much variety or movement. It still felt good, but it just wasn't _enough_. And then they blamed _him _when he couldn't come from that, as if it were his fault, as if they had even bothered to ask him what he liked, or try anything different.

Derek didn't seem to care what he did, he just wanted more. Stiles could tell by the way his hips jerked and his breath came in gasping pants. Stiles was more than willing to oblige. The taste of him exploded on his tongue, and he lapped up a drop of precome, relishing the flavor. Which was a shock to him, because, really, he had never expected to like sucking dick this much, or he probably would have started a long time ago.

He licked along the thick vein on the underside, circling around the head when he got to the top, lapping at the sensitive tip and delighting in the growling groan that Derek let out. Stiles was immensely enjoying the sense of power that this was giving him. It didn't make any sense. He should be feeling submissive, kneeling on the bed with the Alpha's cock in his mouth, baring the back of his neck, right? But he felt powerful. He was giving Derek pleasure. He was making those noises happen, those muscles tighten, those breaths gasp out. That was all him, and he could give more or take it away. That sense of power was amazing, and he loved being the one to make Derek feel good.

He slipped Derek's cock further into his mouth, wanting to expirament, to see how far he could it get it down his throat. He pushed hard on Derek's hips, knowing he wasn't quite strong enough to hold him in place, but hoping Derek would get the message and stay still until Stiles was ready.

The sudden vision came to him of Jackson, kneeling before him, mouth and throat stuffed so full of his cock that his lips were pressed against the skin of his pelvis. He was filled with a steely determination. If Jackson could do it, he could do it. His tongue danced along hard flesh as Derek sunk deeper into his mouth. Stiles relaxed his throat, then pushed it in, faster than he had been planning on going, swallowing it down. He was surprised how easy it was. It made his eyes water, and his throat constrict a little, yeah, but it didn't make him choke like he thought it might.

Derek let out a long, strangled groan, the loudest, most wrecked noise he had made yet, and the sound of it went right to Stiles' twitching dick. He moaned around the thick cock in his throat, and Derek whimpered, hips bucking a little at the vibration along his skin. Stiles let his hand travel down so he could rub himself through his pants as he deepthroated his Alpha, hoping to get a little relief. It only made it worse, and he was aching to come, surprised at how much this was turning him on.

Derek was whimpering and whining consistantly now, hips twitching under Stiles' hands as his throat worked up and down, his tongue dancing across hot hard flesh. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard as he slid out to the tip, then thrust back down, sliding his tongue hard along the underside as he went. Derek's hips jerked up again as he let out a gasping groan, lodging his cock even further in Stiles' throat, if that were possible. Stiles heard a tearing noise, and his eyes shot to Derek's hands, where they were fisted in the comforter of Stiles' bed. His nails were claws, dug deep into the blanket and starting to shred it. He didn't know how he would explain _that _to his dad. But it would defintely be worth trying.

"_Fuck_... m' so close... S-stiles... p-ple..." he broke off into a series of whimpering growls as Stiles started to suck harder, bobbing his head faster, tongue dipping into the slit and greedily sucking down any liquid that welled up. He could have sworn his Alpha had been about to say "please", if that were even possible. God, he would give anything to hear that. He was positive that word coming out of Derek's lips would make him come in his pants right there, without anyone touching him at all. He ground the heel of his palm hard against his dick at the thought, devious plans already forming in his mind for another time. He would eventually get Derek to beg, no matter what it took...

He brought both hands up now, digging his nails into the skin of his Alpha's abdomen and pulling down towards his thighs, over his pelvic bones, leaving thick red gouges. He didn't know what had possessed him to do it, but it seemed to be just the thing to send Derek over the edge, groaning out Stiles' name and ripping his blanket to shreds. He poured his hot load into Stiles' mouth, and the Beta groaned at the taste of it, swallowing it down and lapping at the head of his Alpha's dick to make sure he got it all.

He continued licking until Derek softened, then he moved his licks up, lapping up the faint beads of blood from the stratches he had made. He knew from experience the marks would take a little while to fade, and he bit his lips as he looked at them. He thought Derek might be mad about them, but his dick throbbed deliciously at the sight of them anyway.

Then Derek's hand was wrapping around his bicep and yanking him forward, pulling him off balance and splaying him across a smooth hard chest that was still heaving a little. Stiles was hard as steel, and pressed insistently against Derek's lower belly. He shoved his tongue into Stiles' mouth once more, licking it clean while Stiles whimpered at the sensation, then he nipped a swollen bottom lip before his head fell back against the teenager's pillow with a sigh that was nearly a groan. He looked relaxed and almost-happy. More content than Stiles had ever seen him, anyway. Stiles smiled. Who would've thought? All his Alpha needed was a good orgasm. Derek let out a little growl as he regarded Stiles with heavy-lidded eyes that were slowly fading back to their normal grey-green.

"What are you smiling at?" he grumbled, not nearly as grumpy as he probably meant to sound. Stiles' smile widened slightly.

"Nothing." He nuzzled into Derek's neck, kissing and licking. "You ruined my comforter," he mumbled against hot skin before he nipped lightly at it. Derek gasped.

"I'll buy you a new one," he growled. His muscles tensed, and that really should have warned Stiles. A second later he was underneath Derek, their chests pressed together, and Derek was mouthing at the bite he had left on Stiles' neck, licking it and nibbling at it. Stiles shuddered, hooking his legs around the backs of Derek's knees so he could pull their hips together and get the friction he was craving. Derek's jeans were still down around his knees, and he took a moment to dislodge his legs from Stiles' and push off his shoes, kicking his jeans free before pressing them back against each other. The only clothing between them any more was Stiles' pants and underwear. At that moment, he loathed the invention of pants more than anything else in the world.

Derek snickered, and he realized he had just said the bit about hating pants out loud. His face flushed faintly, and Derek's hands were immediately undoing his fly, nullifying his dislike of the particular article of clothing. His breath hiched as hard knuckles brushed againt the hot sensitive skin of his lower belly. _Ohgawdwhatsgonnahappennext_?

Derek was giving him that smirk again, the arrogant full-of-himself self-satisfied one, as his big hot hands dipped unerneath the jeans, smoothing over his pelvis and downward, fingers scratching through coarse hair. Stiles' heartbeat skipped and his eyes almost rolled back in his head. He was whimpering before Derek had even touched him.

Then Derek froze. Stiles' heartbeat sped up and he lifted his head to ask Derek what was wrong. His Alpha's head was cocked to the side, eyes slightly unfocused and staring at nothing. He knew that look, and he hated it. A fierce snarl ripped from his chest, surprising Derek, as the sound of his father's police cruiser pulled into the driveway.

"_Goddamn _it! Motherfucking _shit_!" he cursed, slamming his fists down on the bed. It never failed. Just when they were about to take things to the next level, something happened, or someone interrupted them. It was driving Stiles apeshit. He was _really_ starting to get pissed off.

He whimpered in loss as Derek's hands slipped out of his pants and closed his fly. He cursed again, glancing at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand. _What the fuck? _Why the hell was his dad home so early? He usually didn't get off work until after midnight. It was only half past nine. He scowled fiercely, even though his curiosity was stabbing him in the gut and urging him to unravel the mystery.

When he lifted his head, Derek's jeans were already on, and he was searching for his shirt. Stiles spotted it against the wall at the side of the bed and snagged it quickly while Derek's back was turned, shoving it under his pillow with a slight smirk. When Derek turned around, he tried to school his expression into a blanker face, but he knew it hadn't worked when he saw the suspicious narrowing of Derek's eyes.

"What?" he asked innocently, stretching out on his bed langourously, legs spread and eyes half-closed. He very much enjoyed the way Derek's eyes darkened as he looked him over. He really hated his dad right now, for coming home early for the first time in months, even as he worried that something might be wrong.

"Where is my shirt, Stiles," Derek asked, sliding his fingers over the marks on his abdomen and hips. He was glaring, but he sure didn't sound angry in the least. His voice was deep and purring and laced with sex, and the delicious sound of it, paired with the way his fingers were tracing almost loveingly over the marks on his skin, made Stiles tremble and want.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he murmured, not sounding very convincing- especially when his heartbeat hitched with his lie- his breath coming in short gasps as Derek drew closer to him.

Then he heard the pounding on the stairs, and wondered when his dad had come inside. He hadn't even heard the door open and close. Before he even had a chance to collect himself, Derek was tossing his shirt onto his chest and rushing over to stand behind the door, in case his dad opened it. Stiles would've told him he had nothing to worry about. His dad hadn't come into his room without knocking and being told to come in since he was twelve and his father had caught him doing what twelve-year-old boys did.

There was a light knocking on his door, and he slipped the shirt over his head quickly as he stood up. He tried to straighten it out, but it was all rumpled and looked like he had been sleeping in it all day. He sighed as he glanced in the mirror. At least the folded collar covered the huge bite mark on the junction of his neck. If it had been a round-collar shirt it wouldn't have.

His dad knocked once more, calling out "Stiles?" as he approached the door. He pulled it open, grinning when he saw his dad raising his hand to knock again.

"Yeah, dad? What are you doing home so early? Did something happen? There something you wanna talk to me about? What's up?" His dad's small smile was amused, and he looked Stiles up and down, like he knew exactly what he had been up to a few minutes ago. Stiles fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Do you have company, son? I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Stiles almost rolled his eyes and screamed that hell yes he was interruting something! PERFECT TIMING DAD! But he just shook his head instead.

"Not anymore, nope. You scared her off, dad, good job. I'm surprised you didn't see her fleeing out the back door when you came inside. She was terrified! I told her you wouldn't be home until after midnight. For some reason you freak her out," he finished with a shrug, mentally congratulating himself for the amazing lie, explaining his ruffled and flustered appearance and swollen lips and odd behavior. He risked a brief glance at Derek, who _actually_ seemed to be fighting back laughter. Huh. That was odd.

He felt bad lying to his dad, every time he did it, because his dad was so easy to lie to. Like he trusted his son completely and couldn't believe he would be up to no good, even though they both knew that was bullshit. It made him feel guilty as hell, but really, what was he supposed to say? _I just gave Derek Hale a blow job- yes, ex-accused-murderer Derek Hale- and he was about to return the favor when you came home. We heard you with our werewolf superhearing- oh, yeah, I'm a werewolf, by the way- and he's hiding behind the door. I'm hoping you'll leave soon so we can finish what we started._ Yeah, that would go over well.

"Well, shit, I'm sorry son. I didn't mean to be such a cockblock," he sounded really contrite, and the look on his face... Stiles burst out laughing, leaning his head aganst the doorframe and gasping for breath. When he got ahold of himself, he looked at his dad, who just looked confused.

"_Seriously_, dad? Don't ever say 'cockblock' again, please? You're _waaaay _too old to use that phrase. You sound ridiculous..." he laughed again.

"Well, thanks alot, kid. Make me feel like a old man..." He shook his head with a glare, making Stiles laugh again.

"Soooo... was there something you needed dad? Or did you just come home to give me a good laugh and scare off my friend, hm?" Stiles said when he stopped laughing again. The Sherriff rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, a familiar gesture that Stiles had inherited.

"Umm, well, I'm gonna be leaving in the morning, to Sacramento. Some sort of conference, I won't bore you with the details. Shouldn't be gone more than three days..." Stiles was frowning. His dad's heartbeat was erratic, like he was lying... He was leaving in the moring and he was just telling his son _now_? "Sorry I didnt tell you sooner. I haven't really seen much of you lately, ya know..." They had just had dinner together the night before, sort of... Something weird was going on... He just nodded.

"Okay dad. It's fine... remember to take your medicine and don't eat fried foods or too much red meat or drink too much." The usual rundown. The Sherriff rolled his eyes and patted Stiles on the shoulder.

"Yeah, son, will-do. I'm sure I'll be fine for three days, huh?" Stiles shrugged and the Sherriff scoffed, shaking his head. "Well, I got the night off, anyway. I was gonna hit the sack early, get some sleep before I gotta wake up early... I probably won't see you before I leave tomorrow- flight's at six am- so I just wanted to say bye now..." Stiles nodded, and they shared a brief, slightly awkward hug.

"Have fun, dad," Stiles said as they parted. He saw the odd look that crossed his father's face, but didn't comment. The Sherriff just nodded.

"I left some money for food and gas in the cookie jar. No more than one person over at a time... unless they're girls... then you can have as many over as you want..." Stiles laughed again. A big muscly sexy werewolf guy was standing behind his door shirtless, the taste of his cum still in Stiles' mouth, and his dad was basically encouraging him to have an orgy with a bunch of girls. Irony much? "I'll keep that in mind, dad, and let you know if anything works out..." he rolled his eyes, and his dad laughed.

"Okay, you do that. G'night kid. Stay outta trouble while I'm gone, 'kay?" Stiles smirked.

"I'll do my best." His dad smirked, too.

"That's all I'm asking."

He watched his dad start off down the hall before he closed his door, leaning his forehead against it with a sigh.

"He was lying," Derek said quietly, moving a little closer to him. Stiles turned his head to look at him, forehead still pressed to the door.

"I know." Stiles breathed, eyes closing.

"Why?" Derek's voice is gentle, curious, like he thinks Stiles will actually know the answer.

"I don't know." Derek moved around behind him, pressing hot wet lips to the back of his neck, nipping lightly before pulling away. Stiles slumped in disappointment and Derek snickered.

"I need to go home..." Derek muttered, barely audible. Stiles whipped around to stare at him, an indignant look on his face.

"Why?" he whined, grimacing when he sounded like a petulant child. Derek looked at him for a long time, face blank. Stiles hated it when he did that. Why did he have to stare? Stiles raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Derek turned around, still hunting for his shirt, and Stiles smirked again, while his back was turned.

"The rest of the pack will be back in the morning," Derek finally said, seeming to get frustrated at not being able to find his clothing. Stiles wondered why he couldn't sniff it out, then figured it was probbaly because his bed and pillow smelled so much like Derek that he couldn't pick out the scent of the shirt underneath the pillow. He turned to glare at Stiles accusingly. "Seriously, Stiles, where is my shirt?" he barked, and Stiles tried not to smile, he really tried. He glanced around, then shrugged.

"I don't see it anywhere, Der." It wasn't a lie. Derek sighed in defeat. "Do you, like, need a ride home, or something? 'Cause I could totally do that for you..." Stiles didn't know why Derek kept leaving his car at home in favor of walking, but he figured he might want a ride if he was going to be shirtless. Stiles was definitely not giving him his shirt back any time soon. His gaze slid over Derek's hard chest and abdomen, admiring the breadth of his shoulders, the clench and roll of muscle...

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Derek muttered, turning to slip his shoes back on before swinging through the open window. Stiles heard the thump of his shoes on the dew-moist grass below. He slipped off the rumpled clothing he was wearing, changing into something more casual. Jeans and a collared shirt that he buttoned up so his dad wouldn't see the mark if they met up in the hall on his way out. He took his Ipod off the dock and slid it into his pocket. He slipped his shoes back on, too, retrieved his keys from the pocket of his other pants, and then he was out the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't see his dad in the hallway, and as soon as he was out the front door he loosened the top buttons of his shirt so it fell open at the neck, clearly displaying the bite mark he felt oddly proud of.

Derek was already in the jeep, sitting in the passenger's seat and looking bored. He perked up almost imperceptibly when Stiles climbed in the car. Most people wouldn't even have noticed the change. But then, most people weren't Stiles. He grinned at his shirtless Alpha, almost disappointed when he didn't get a grin back. Really, what was he expecting? A complete change in personality? Derek to start calling him his boyfriend now? Whispering poetic words of love and buying him gifts and treating him with love and care? That would be completely out of character. One blow job wasn't going to change the guy's entire demeanor... no matter how good Stiles felt like he did at it. Hey, at least he didn't scowl at him, or slam his face into the steering wheel. _That _had sucked.

"Will you stop staring at me and start the car already?" Derek snapped. Stiles rolled his eyes. _Damn hypocrite._

"Hey, _you _are the one who's always staring at _me_, time to get a taste of your own-" Derek cut him off, cuffing him around the head. It might have been gentler than it used to be, but still. He glared.

"Okay, okay! Starting the car!" He stuck the key in the ignition, smirking when he saw Derek glare at his 'Save the Wolves!' keychain.

Maybe Derek wasn't going to spend the night at Stiles' house, but that didn't mean Stiles couldn't spend the night with Derek...

**Sorry it took me a couple days to get this out. I rewrote the BJ scene three times. I was originally going to make them just have sex... but I figured it was too soon... they told me they weren't ready yet :P *muahaha* lol**

**Please review and let me know what you think! I thrive on reviews! I don't mind criticism!**


	15. Chapter 15: Winter Windows

**So, I've had a few people asking me about the songs I've chosen, the reason for each song. Some songs are kind of self-explanatory, or are included in the chapter somehow. Others are more cryptic, and don't seem to make sense in relation with the story. Suffice it to say, every song is chosen for a reason. Sometimes, the reasons only make sense in my own crazy head. I won't share those reasons :) It's more fun if you don't know...**

**Special thanks go to some special reviewers. MimeMoe, LowlifeTheory, and hbrackett. You guys are awesome! You always leave great reviews! EVERYONE should go check out their fics, if you haven't already! They're great!**

**SONG: Winter Windows - **_**Sea Wolf**_

_**FIRST DRAFT! PLEASE EXCUSE SPELLING AND GRAMMAR! I DON'T KNOW FOR HOW LONG! :(**_

As soon as they pulled out onto the road, Stiles plugged in his Ipod and cranked up the music. There was no way he wasn't going to blare music and sing along now. He was happier than he had been in days... even though he still hadn't gotten laid, or even had Derek's hand- or anything else- on his bare cock yet. He was just happy that Derek had finally stopped running away from him. He wondered how long it would last, and what would come of it next.

He glanced over at Derek, almost rolling his eyes when he saw that intense gaze glued to him. It seemed like all Derek did lately was stare at him. Every time he looked over at him, those green eyes were locked on him with a characteristically unreadable expression.

He cranked the music up a little louder, and was about to start singing along when Derek's hand reached out and turned it back down until it was barely audible, even to werewolf ears. Stiles glared.

"What the hell? I thought you liked my music?"

"I do..." Derek was starting to get on his nerves a little.

"Then... what the fuck?" They were on a straight stretch of road, so he looked over, keeping his eyes on Derek as he waited for an answer. Derek sighed, and the noise seemed to be becoming a routine thing.

"I think we need to talk..." He didn't sound so sure. Stiles gulped, turning to look back at the road. Now? He wanted to talk about this now? How very... unlikely...

"So talk. Wait, talk about what? What do we have to talk about?" A lump seemed to be forming in his throat, and nerves fluttered in his belly.

"Well..." Derek started, then looked like he didn't know how to continue. "You got really angry, earlier today..." Stiles wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

"Y-yeah. I know, so what? Why? What- why are you... So?" He clenched the steering wheel tight, knuckles going white.

"I think you misunderstood _my _anger," Derek said. Stiles noticed that he was _still _staring. "I think... you thought I was jealous. Of what you did with Jackson."

"You weren't?" Stiles asked quickly, starting to feel really stupid. Had he completely misread the situation? "Then why were you mad?" Derek growled, and Stiles gulped again.

"I _told _you, Stiles, no displays of dominace, no battles, no _nothing_, until everyone was settled and secure with their circumstances. Until everyone was ready. Until _I _gave you the okay. Didn't I tell you that?" He sounded a little angry now. Stiles didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that the talk was about something else entirely different than what he had thought.

"Yeah, you did, you told me, I heard it..." He wanted to reassure Derek that he knew he had done the right thing, but didn't want to piss him off further. His Alpha heard the unspoken words, though, knew he had more to say.

"_And_?" He prompted, when Stiles didn't continue.

"Well...I, er, um...I think, I thought," He broke off, taking a deep breath. He hated it when Derek made him all bumbly and stuttery. "I think everyone _is _ready, Der... Derek... Alpha my Alpha," he flashed him a placating smile, slightly nervous. Derek huffed. He knew Stiles was right, but didn't want to be wrong himself.

"Did you hear that from _me_?" Derek demanded, and Stiles whined reassuringly.

"No..." he took another deep breath. "But, well, Jackson was challenging me, Der! I couldn't just, _let _him, could I? I knew, I _know_, that I am more dominant than him, and I had to put him in his place! What was I supposed to do, call you and ask permission?" He was kidding, but Derek didn't seem to think it was a joke.

"Yes! That's exactly what you should have done!" He snarled, making Stiles flinch slightly at his tone. He was so touchy. Guess the contented afterglow had faded away, for sure.

"I'm sorry... but did you _see _the video, Der? Did you see their behavior? It was all _right_, just like it was supposed to be! Allison and Scott may still be having problems, but I think they are beginning to accept their wolves, listen to them, pay attention to their instincts. They-" Derek interrupted him with annoyed huff.

"No, Stiles, I _didn't _see the video." Stiles was confused.

"But, didn't Allison send it to you? I don't understand..."

"Yeah, she sent it, with a caption about what happened. I believe it said, "Stiles and Jackson got in a fight. Stiles won." or someting to that effect... my phone is a prepaid, Stiles, not a fancy smart phone. I can't take pictures, I can't receive picture or video messages... I did _not _see the video." He sounded annoyed. Stiles rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"I _told _you to get a good phone. You're the one who didn't listen. You _never _listen to me, and I'm always right!" Derek smirked.

"I listen to you sometimes. And you're not _always _right."

"Well, whatever. Get a good phone."

They lapsed into silence. Stiles reached to turn the music back up... and Derek turned it right back down again. Stiles growled and gave up. The "my car my music" thing wouldn't work with his Alpha like it had with Lydia. He knew from experience, so he didn't even try. He just sighed.

"More talking?" he muttered. He already felt like an idiot for misreading his Alpha's inentions, for getting mad for no reason and storming off and... and kicking his stereo at his Alpha's head. Derek growled at him.

"Do you know what you've started now, Stiles?" he asked, but didn't sound as angry as Stiles expected. Didn't sound angry at all actually, just ... kind of tired. He didn't wait for Stiles to respond. "Now the rest of the pack will be squabbling, fighting for dominance, displaying their dominace in similar manners to what you and Jackson did..." he groaned in exasperation. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to put up with this crap for a couple more months at least..." Stiles ducked his head in embarassment and a bit of shame. But, truthfully, all that was running through his head at his Alpha's words was the image of Lydia and Allison having a display if dominance... all over each other. He bit his lip and shifted in his seat. He noticed Derek's gaze lock on him, nostrils flaring as he scented his arousal. He shook his head in disbelief, rolling down his window as if to air out the car. "You have issues," he muttered, nearly a growl. Stiles flushed.

"Hey, you can't tell me the thought of Allison and Lydia together doesn't turn you on!" He smiled triumphantly when Derek didn't immediately deny it. "That's what I thought." Derek smirked at him, and then they both laughed, Stiles a little louder.

"Okay, so, we both have issues." Stiles laughed again, this time by himself. He was curious about a few things... mostly the whole sex thing. Was it normal? Did it happen in all 'wolf packs? What about family packs, such as Derek's had been? That would be weird and disturbing... Derek seemed to read his mind again, as usual.

"I know you're curious about it," he said, amusement in his voice. He didn't even need to say what 'it' was. What _wasn't _Stiles curious about? He was like a knowledge vaccum. He wanted to know everything about everything.

"Curiosity killed the cat," Stiles said with a smirk. His mother used to say that to him all the time. "But it was satisfaction that brought it back," he finished. Always his retort. Derek rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever." He paused for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. "It's a werewolf thing, I guess. When a pack is new, like ours, and full of unrelated 'wolves, like ours... it just kinda happens. It's an easy way of ingraining pack hierarchy without all the fighting. Much less painful." He smirked, as if he was telling a joke. A private one, apparently.

"What about family packs?" Stiles asked after a moment, wincing slightly at the look of unguarded pain that showed on Derek's face for a split second. The smirk was gone now, replaced with the customary blank expression. Stiles preferred anything to that, even the pain...

"Family packs are much different, of course. They don't need to show dominance that way, because the hierarchy in family packs is ingrained from birth. It is instinctive and obvious to all famliy members, and there are rarely dominance battles until Transitions take place, and then it is like a right of passage, and encouraged. Much different than the kind of pack we have..." he sounded like he was reciting from a text book. Every time he said the word 'family' his voice cracked. It broke Stiles' heart, but he couldn't really do much about it, couldn't try to comfort him, without pissing his Alpha off.

_They _were his family now. They all loved him, they protected each other, cared about each other more than anything, and more every day. Stiles used to think that they weren't enough for Derek, that he didn't want them as his family, that he didn't love them the same way, because he was still so sad and depressed all the time.

But he had realized that, that wasn't it at all. He loved them, he needed them... it was just a Derek thing. He had gone six years without his family, two without his sister, a handful of months without his - psychotic- uncle. He was the only Hale left. The very last. Things would become easier for him as time wore on, as he made happy memories with his pack, as they surounded him and loved him and proved themselves to be worthy of him.

Stiles knew Derek saw it a different way, though. He knew part of what Derek felt in his heart; that he wasn't good enough for them, that he didn't deserve them, that he didn't deserve to be happy and feel good. He still blamed himself for everything. Of course. But Stiles was determined to make him see the truth, to show him that he deserved to be loved.

He reached out a hand and placed it on Derek's thigh. He didn't say anything, just kept his eyes on the road. A silent anchoring comfort he knew Derek needed as he stared out the window, lost in his thoughts. A few moments later, Derek's hand came down on top of his, curled around it, held it for a moment. His thumb rubbed the back of Stiles' fingers softly. He squeezed, then gently set Stiles' hand aside, off his thigh, and let go of it. When Stiles glanced over at him, he was staring. _Oh, god, not that again! _He cleared his throat.

"So, um, do you think Jackson and Scott will... fight?" he felt awkward asking, because he knew he was asking something else, too. Derek snickered.

"Yeah, probably, knowing those two. They can't seem to keep their hands off each other-" he nearly laughed when Stiles choked on air, eyes big, "- I _mean_, they're always bickering and pushing each other's buttons and disagreeing over every little thing. They'll probably challenge each other..." Derek trailed off, as if he didn't want to say anything else. Stiles understood completely. The thought of those two together, doing anything like what he had done with Jackson, made him almost want to gag. The thought of Scott... ugh, he was like a brother to Stiles. He counted himself lucky that Scott knew his place between the two of them without him having to enforce it. That would be just gross.

"Anyone else, you think? Lydia and Allison...?" He just wanted to hear Derek say it. He already knew the answer. The thought of those two... he just couldn't get the filthy images out of his mind. Especially since they had all gone swimming, seeing the two girls all touchy-feely and soaking wet...

"Will you stop it?" Derek snapped, though his voice sounded amused. Stiles grinned sheepishly, shifting in his seat again.

"Sorry..." Derek rolled his eyes. He did that alot around Stiles. Most people did. It seemed to be a reaction that Stiles just unconciously enforced on people without meaning to. Derek sighed and answered Stiles' previous question.

"It depends on who wins the Jackson/Scott fight... Lydia may even challenge _you_..." Alarm shot through Stiles, mixed with heat and anticipation and nerves.

"_Me_? Why me? I thought..." He had thought his place in the pack was secured. He didn't know whether to hope Lydia challenged him or hope she didn't... He didn't see the look Derek was giving him as he stared out the front windshield, mind running through all the possibilities. He _had _been a little disappointed when he had learned his place in the pack was secured and he wouldn't be challenged. But now he wasn't so sure if that was a good or bad thing. I mean, it was _Lydia_. How much of a fight could she really give him, anyway?

"I think she wants to... to be Alpha female..." Derek muttered, facing the open window, and his words were almost lost in the whipping wind. Stiles felt a claw close around his heart and squeeze.

"I-I thought... what about..._what_?" Stiles' voice was hoarse, a little panicked, and he hated it. "Isn't she... aren't her and... What about Jackson?" Derek was looking at him again.

"They haven't given each other the mating bite yet, Stiles. Not like Scott and Allison. I think she's disappointed in him, in how submissive he is. He will probabaly end up losing the fight with Scott, and then he'll be a _true _Omega." Stiles' heart was racing. "You and I both know how Lydia is... she wouldn't want Jackson if he were an Omega... she would never complete the mating bite. She's all about power."

"Yeah, but... _Alpha female_? _Really_? A little ambitious, isn't she?" Stiles knew his voice edged on hysterics... but this just wasn't fair. He felt like Derek was slipping away from him. Like he had barely sunk his claws in, and now he was being pulled away. Would Derek accept her as Alpha female? Is that what he wanted? A female to bear his pups, to give him an heir, to be the packmother? Did he want Lydia? Stiles was afraid to ask.

"She's dominant, Stiles," Derek said quietly, shrugging. "I don't think she could beat you in a fair fight, but... she's underhanded, sly. She won't _play _fair. She knows your weaknesses. If she challenges you, you have to be careful..."

"So, she has to beat me to be Alpha female? That doesn't make sense..." Derek sighed, as if he didn't really want to talk about this, but had no choice.

"You're the most dominant Beta. If you stand in her way, she can't get what she wants. She would have to be the most dominant, or she would need your permission... and we both know you won't give her that..." He trailed off, and there was a strange edge to his voice, some emotion that Stiles couldn't identify. He took a deep breath... and the claw squeezed his heart tighter.

"I _would_, Der... if you wanted me to..." His voice was quiet, and he didn't look at Derek as he said it. Even so, he saw Derek's head snap to look at him, out of the corner of his eye.

Stiles was selfless. He would give away everything he had always wanted if it was for the good of the pack. He would give Lydia the permission she wanted, if he needed to to, if _Derek _wanted him to, if it would make his pack happy. His own happiness be damned.

But, if Lydia became Alpha female, Stiles knew he wouldn't be able to stay with the pack. He couldn't take seeing them together every day. He knew he would leave. He was dominant enough to be a lone 'wolf, but maybe he would go in search of another pack to join... It would kill him, but he would do it. For the good of his pack, his friends, those he loved.

Because he loved Derek... was _in love_ with him...

**I would have updated two days ago, but I have been having connection problems with my internet. STUPID SPRINT! I don't know when the problems will be resolved, so I have to go to nearby hotspots to use the internet now. I also have transportation problems... so I can't promise regular updates until I get it fixed. I have the next chapter done, but it's not edited. I'll update as soon as possible. Shouldn't be more than two weeks until the problems are resolved, hopefully much sooner!**

**Thanks for reading! I love you, all my amazing reviewers! Please keep reviewing!**


	16. Chapter 16: Inside Out

**Still having connection problems. You guys are lucky I got a ride to this morning or you would have had to wait another three days for an update! Don't know when the next one will be... I have the next few chaps written already, and since I'm so far ahead, I'm going to start working on something else soon. A small one-shot, probably. It may turn into more, but I'm trying not to let it, lol. We'll see!**

**Ugh, I have to WALK home now... I hope you appreciate this!**

**Thanks everyone for your wonderful comments! You guys really are awesome...**

**SONG: Inside Out - _Eve 6_**

**_FIRST DRAFT! AGAIN, PLEASE EXCUSE SPELLING AND GRAMMAR TEMPORARILY AS I WON'T HAVE A CHANCE TO RE-EDIT EVERYTHING UNTIL I GET MY CONNECTION BACK!_**

Derek couldn't stop looking at him. At the amazing, beautiful boy sitting next to him. _What is wrong with me?_

Stiles was willing to let Lydia have what she wanted. He would just give up that easily? Is that what he wanted, too? Did he want Derek to be with Lydia? It was a deeply ingrained instinctual need, in a pack, to have an Alpha pair, for their Alpha to find a mate. He had thought it would be different with his pack, since they were all so new. He didn't think the need was so important, not the way it was with a family pack, or a pack that had been together for years.

Did Stiles want that? Maybe he just wanted to have fun with Derek, maybe that's all this was about... had he misread the situation that poorly? Did he want Derek to find his mate- his _female _mate- as much as he _should_? Stiles was never one for conventionality. Did that apply to this as well?

When he had asked Stiles what he wanted from him, he hadn't meant in the physical sense. But Stiles had answered the question that way. Is that all he wanted from him?

A thousand questions and possiblities flooded his mind, and he realized he was staring at his Beta with his mouth open, so he closed it. He continued to stare, though, as usual. Stiles was nice to look at, and Derek enjoyed seeing each emotion that flashed across his face. It was usually pretty easy to tell what he was thinking if you looked at him for long enough.

Derek didn't want Lydia, not at all. She was beautiful, yes, but their personalities clashed. They were similar in too many ways, both hard-headed and bossy and controlling. He had to admit, though, that their children would be gorgeous... and clever, and tough, and powerful... It was his duty as Alpha to want that, to mate with a female and to have children, to take a female mate. He had to think like an Alpha. With Stiles willing to step aside, to let that happen... as long as Stiles was still with him, was still there for support, for advice, for... friendship. As long as Stiles was still there, _maybe _he could do it. Maybe he could fulfill his duty to the pack, like he was supposed to. Whether it was what he wanted or not.

But he would _not _tell Stiles to stand aside. If Stiles chose to do so on his own, then he would accept Lydia as his Alpha Female. If he chose not to and he lost the fight anyway... no, he still wouldn't accept the girl. He would only accept her of _Stiles _wanted him to.

He wondered at that. He was supposed to be the Alpha, wasn't he? So why was he basing his decisions off of what his Beta wanted? The truth was, what Stiles wanted meant more to him than he thought possible. He wasn't sure what that meant... wasn't sure what it meant in the long run, in pack terms. He didn't really care at the moment, as he watched a myriad of emotions flit across Stiles' face. The kid didn't seem to know what to think, what to feel. But then, that was nothing unusual.

His face settled on astonishment. That was a new one. What was that all about? He looked at Derek, eyes a little wild. He looked freaked out. What the hell was up with the kid?

"What?" he asked, voice maybe a little harder than he had intended. He did that alot. He had to learn to have more patience, more understanding, if he was going to deal with a pack of horny teen wolves. That was going to be a challenge.

Stiles gaped at him for a moment, then slowly shook his head, gasping "nothing" in a small voice. Derek sighed. He had given up trying to understand the kid, keep up with his moods, long ago. It was a swiftly losing battle, so he had surrendered.

He realized his hand had been absently rubbing over the scratches on his lower belly, and he stopped. The skin was still tender, un-healed. He realized his 'wolf had kept them from healing. How curious. His wolf had been more prominent since he had become Alpha, more involved and harder to ignore. It was almost as if he had split personalities now. The wolf did things without his knowledge sometimes, and most of what he did now revolved around instinct and what the _wolf _was feeling. It was scary thought, but exhilerating, as if he wasn't the one in control any more, like he could hand the control over to someone else to make the decisions. That was a dangerous thought.

He was starting to get a bit chilly, with the window down and no shirt, so he rolled it back up, shivering a bit. He didn't miss the vaguely guilty look that Stiles gave him, and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion again, but didn't mention it.

Stiles looked back at the road, and Derek kept looking at him. He watched in curiosity as Stiles shut down. He stopped fidgeting, his face became blank, and his eyes were totally expressionless. The trees flew by outside, they got closer to the Hale house, and Stiles stayed silent and motionless.

It was unusual for Stiles to be this quiet and still for so long. He must be trapped inside his head, immersed in his thoughts. The only movements he made were to turn the wheel, the rest of him was dead still, and his face was _actually _blank. Wow. He must be pretty deep in his thoughts. A playful curiosity washed over Derek, and he knew it was the wolf. The boy's collar was open, unbuttoned, the mark on his neck still fresh-looking. He wondered if Stiles was making the concious effort to keep it from healing, or of it were _his _wolf as well. No matter.

He slowly reached out a hand and placed it on Stiles' shoulder, thumb rubbing against the bite mark. Stiles trembled, eyelids shuttered, and he whimpered, leaning into the touch. The heady scent of arousal filled the small confines of the car, now that the window was up. His reaction went straight to Derek's cock, and his wolf clawed at him from the inside, urging him to pounce and take and ravish. He wanted to pull Stiles into his lap and fuck him right there. He managed to cage the animal, though. They weren't ready for that quite yet.

Stiles was twitchy again, emotions displaying again. Which was pretty much what Derek was going for. He removed his hand, trying to ignore the disappointed noise Stiles made. He decided to try his question again.

"Stiles..." he took a deep breath. "_What do you want from me?" _He wanted a real answer this time. His previous answer had been nice, had led to delicious pleasure, and pleasant times, but it's not what he was asking for this time.

Silence enveloped them once more. Stiles went still again, but his face was still flashing emoions. Indecision, determination, exasperation, confusion, want, longing... But he didn't say anything.

He took the turn onto the dirt road that led to the Hale house, slowing down a bit as the terrain got rougher. Derek was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer. He was about to push him, to ask again, to _make _him answer...

"I-I don't think what I want matters, Derek," he finally said, voice shaking slightly. Derek scowled.

"What the hell do you mean? Of course it does!" But Stiles was shaking his head, determination winning out as the prominent emotion on his face. Derek didn't like that look.

"No. No, it doesn't. What I want isn't in the best interest of the pack. What I want is selfish and... I can't have what I want." He took a shaky breath, ignoring Derek's growling. "You should just accept Lydia. I won't even fight her, I'll just stand aside. She would be good for the pack, a good choice for you. She's beautiful and strong and smart-"

"So are you." Derek snarled, voice deep and growling, surprising himself and Stiles. The words came from the wolf, but that didn't mean the human didn't feel them too.

The burnt house loomed in front of them, and Stiles parked next to the camaro. He hadn't said anything. He looked a little shocked. Then he smiled, a teasing smile.

"You think I'm beautiful and strong and smart? Aww, Derek, how sweet-"

"Shut up," Derek growled, getting out of the car. He came around the front as Stiles climbed out and closed the door, crowding him up againt the side of the jeep and trapping him between his arms, planting a hand on either side of his head. "Listen to me, Stiles,"he used his Alpha Voice, and Stiles snapped to attention, "_If _Lydia challenges you. _IF_. You do what _you _want to do. Stand aside or fight. It's up to you. _I _decide what's good for the pack. That is _not _up to you. _Understand_?" The last word wasn't much more than a growl. Stiles nodded vehemently, eyes wide and surprised.

"Yes, Alpha," he said, sounding a little troubled. But Derek was satisfied. Even though he still hadn't really gotten an answer to his question. Not a direct answer, anyway, just an implied one.

He closed the small distance between them, pressing himself against the smaller body. They were almost the same height, but, even though Stiles had put on some muscle, had bulked up a bit, Derek was still bigger, larger, more powerful. Becoming Alpha had put some muscle on him, too. He would always be bigger than Stiles.

The kid's arms came up, wrapping around his waist, his face pressing into his Alpha's neck. Derek nipped at his shoulder, scraped his teeth over the bite mark and lapped at it, enjoying how Stiles shuddered against him. Hot hands snuck under his shirt in the back, trailing over skin and hard muscle, then coming around to the front to scrape his nails over the marks on the ridged abdomen. Stiles chuckled lightly as Derek shuddered, too, getting a taste of his own medicine.

The Alpha brought his head up and looked at Stiles' face for a moment, then he slowly leaned in, intending to kiss him. Before their lips could meet, a howl rose up from the woods, high and sharp. It was Lydia...

**Cliffhanger! Sort of... lol. **

**Review please! I love to hear your thoughts and opinions!**


	17. Chapter 17: Dog Days

**Still haven't gotten my computer problems resolved yet. I've been using my boyfriend's dad's computer sometimes, but I don't have all my chapters and stuff on there, so I can't update when I'm on that computer. Hope you guys like this chapter. I know it's short, but hopefully I will be able to get another chapter up this week. Still haven't had time to go back and edit chapters, so please, bear with me of the spelling and grammar :) The one-shot fic I was talking about will probably be posted next time I update. I'm still working out some things with it, struggling with the comedy element :P**

**SONG: Dog Days Are Over - **_**Florence and the Machine**_

_**FIRST DRAFT! PLEASE EXCUSE SPELLING AND GRAMMAR TEMPORARILY!**_

Lydia howled, high and sharp, signaling to the other three packmembers, calling them to her, as the most dominant 'wolf of the four. She didn't know Derek and Stiles were there now, of course. Derek's eyes flashed, but Stiles didn't know if it was in anger, arousal, anticipation, or something else entirely. But Lydia was calling the pack to her while the Alpha was here. That was _his _place, his right, not hers, not while he was here. She didn't know they were there, but the point was that they _were_. She didn't have the right to exert dominance while the Alpha and Head Beta were present. She was _not _Alpha Female...

Derek threw back his head and let out a deep, roaring howl, so loud it made Stiles' chest vibrate. He was counter-acting Lydia's howl, undermining it, calling the 'wolves to _him _instead. Stiles wanted them to know he was there, too, and had the urge to join in. So, without a second thought, he raised his face to the nearly-full moon and let out a howl of his own. Announcing his presence. Telling his pack that he was back.

Four howls echoed the call. Jackson's first, followed shortly by Scott and Allison. Lydia's came a few moments later, a little hesitant-sounding. They were greeting them, answering their Alpha, calling to their missing packmembers. The two 'wolves- the Alpha and his Beta- looked at one another, the moon reflecting in their eyes, and grinned fiercely as they started to shift, an unconcious reaction to the howls of their pack. Their wolves aching to join their packmembers, clawing their way to the surface, so close to the full moon.

As their teeth and claws elongated, eyes started to glow, hair started to thicken and spread, Derek leaned forward and caught Stiles' mouth with his own, anyway. The kiss was brutal and rough, all sharp teeth and savage bites, and when they parted both of them tasted blood. The scent of arousal was heavy in the air between them, but so was the scent of their pack, and they knew they didn't have time for anything more satisfying at the moment.

Stiles traced lovingly over his marks on Derek's abdomen, pressing hard with his claws until Derek growled and pushed against his hands, as if urging him to make more marks. But he took his hands away, pulling back with a feral smile as he stripped off his shirt, tossing it into his car haphazardly, along with the contents of his pockets. The only thing Derek kept in his pockets was his wallet, and he tossed it in the jeep after Stiles' things.

Scott and Stiles had once made the mistake of not emptying their pockets - back when it was just the three of them - and they had both ended up losing their keys and cell phones. They had learned from that mistake, as had the rest of the pack. Piles of change and a pair of cell phones and wallets already sat next to two purses on the table next to the grill.

The Beta growled a playful challenge and flashed fang at his Alpha, then took off into the trees, aiming vaguely for the area he had heard the howls coming from. He could hear Derek behind him, growling and rushing to catch up. He laughed and put on a burst of speed, and it wasn't long before he outpaced Derek and pulled away. He mentally congratulated himself for outrunning his Alpha, a toothy grin on his face.

It took him just a moment to realize his mistake, but it was a moment too he could escape, a hard heavy body was dropping on him from above, pinning him to the ground, an amused growl rumbling next to his ear. He had barely begun to struggle when a hard thigh came up between his legs and pressed against him. He realized he didn't want to struggle, and he gripped his Alpha's shoulders and pulled him down. Derek grinned savagely at him and let himself be pulled, a slash of sharp fangs and blood red eyes as he moved.

"Caught you, little rabbit," he murmured as their faces drew close, hot breath gusting againt the skin of his neck. Stiles growled, indignant over being called a rabbit. He jerked back a little, turning his face to bite at Derek's jaw and neck, leaving marks, making Derek growl and shudder. Then the scent of the pack drifted to them on the wind, strong and close, and Stiles remembered why they hadn't done anything before. Derek's head snapped up, and he stood from his crouched position, yanking Stiles up with him. He let out a short, gruff howl and disappeared into the trees. Stiles waited a moment before following, shaking himself and trying to pull himself together and urge his arousal away.

The pack was just ahead of Stiles now. Derek was already with them. But Stiles was a little hesitant about going to them, after the way he had left them earlier. He wasn't sure how they would greet him, was afraid they would be mad at him. Even so, he kept moving, kept going toward them, his body moving unconciously, his wolf taking him to his pack.

As he approached them, coming around a large tree to see them all there, waiting for him, he couldn't help but laugh at the sight before him. Their Alpha was on the ground, buried under the four younger packmembers. They were trying to hold him down, and he was trying to fight them to get up as they licked him and nipped him and nuzzled him, greeting him and marking him with their scents. At his laugh, five pairs of glowing eyes came to rest on him with intense animal focus, all of them going completley still. He cursed, twisting around, ready to flee, and then he went down in a tangle of arms and legs and half naked bodies. They were even more enthusiastic with their greeting of him, and all he could do was laugh and beg for mercy. He was ecstatic that they weren't mad at him, that they were happy to see him, even after his stupid outburst that afternoon. He called to Derek to rescue him fro the overenthusiasm of his pack, but his Alpha just stood back and watched, arms crossed, a grin on his face.

It wasn't until Jackson gave him a hard nip on his bare belly, making a mark, that Derek snarled and chased them all away, then helped Stiles to his feet, huffing in amusement. When Stiles peered around Derek, he saw that the four 'wolves had already found womthing to occupy theimselves. They were engaged in a game of tag, and Jackson was 'it'. He didn't seem to be having any luck catching anyone. He kept swiping at them an instant before they moved, hands closing on empty air, and he was starting to get frustrated, growling and whining as the rest of them laughed and dodged.

Stiles was about to go to his rescue, hold down one of them so Jackson could tag them. As he started toward them, mischief shining in his eyes, Derek grabbed him and pulled him back, wrapping his arms around his Beta. He rubbed against his chest, nuzzled his neck, ran his hands all over him. It took a second for Stiles to realize that Derek was scent-marking him, covering him in his smell, adding it to the scent of the rest of the pack. He whined and nuzzled back, nipping at Derek's skin some more. He loved biting Derek, he realized, loved the feel of the hot flesh between his teeth, and the little happy-growls that Derek made when he did it.

Too soon, Derek pulled away. Stiles whined at him, but he just smirked, top canine poking out over his bottom lip, and gestured toward the rest if the pack, still playing their game. Stiles _was _eager to join them. Derek left his side, circling around the tumbling 'wolves with interest, and Stiles crept up on them, too. Jackson still hadn't been able to catch anyone, so Stiels leapt on top of Scott when he got too close, holding him down and nipping him playfully. Everyone laughed when he called Jackson over to tag him. Everyone but Scott how struggled and growled and called him a cheater.

Jackson tagged Scott, and Stiles took off before he could be named 'it'. He needn;t worry, though. Scott was focused on Jackson, eager to get him back for letting Stiles cheat. Stiles laughed out loud when Jackson ran and hid behind their Alpha, and Derek snarled a warning at Scott when he came too close. Scott slunk away in defeat to chase after somone else, muttering grumpily about cheating wolves.

They chased each other around for a little while longer, working their way further into the woods, each having to take their turn being 'it'. Stiles even tagged Derek at one point, but he just growled and rolled his eyes before easily catching him again and re-tagging him. No one tagged Derek again after that.

They played a few other games that night. Hide-and-go-seek was one of their favorites. Stiles even managed to convince Derek to play a game. It ended when everyone had been found but the Alpha. They finally gave up, and he came out, but wouldn't tell them where he had been hiding. Playing any sort of games with Derek just wasn't fair anymore.

They ended up somewhere in the middle of the woods, in a place that Stiles didn't recognize by sight, but by scent. They must have been there during a full moon before, for his nose to know it. The place felt familiar to him, but he didn't have any concrete memories of being there. He could tell, as he looked around at all tehir faces, that it was the same for the rest of the pack. Except for Derek, who knew every inch of the woods like the back fo his hand. He had played in them as a kid, and roamed them extensively as an adult. The woods were more a home to him, now, than the burnt-out shell of a house was.

The pack spread out, sniffing and exploring the new-yet-familiar area. Their scents were there, faded but obvious. Stiles reveled in the scent, the string smell that marked this as their territory. He was happy to be reunited with his pack, no matter how short a time he was away from them. The concerns from earlier were still nagging at the back of his mind, and he ignored them the best he could. He didn;t want to think about that now, didn;t want to let his human half take over right now. He was perefctly content with the animal side.

He looked around, at the moonlight-soaked forest, at the five glinting pairs of eyes, breathed in the musky wolf-smell, focused on the sound of snuffling and whining and low growls. It brought him back, pushed the human further away, and let him enjoy the night without worrying about the human concerns anymore. He hated having to work at it, at letting the animal rule. Tomorrow night would be a different story. Tomorrow night would be all about the animal, the primal, the savage. He wouldn't have to work to ignore human concerns, they would just melt away on their own.

He could keep control, keep a measure of his humanity, if he wanted to. He just didn't want to. The full moon night was the one night of the month that he could let loose, let his instincts and animal side reign and have full control. It was the only night he could let go of the worry and the fear and the stress. That was why it was his favorite night of the month. The pack would leave early, long before moonrise, and travel far into the forest, far from humans and cicilization, just in case. They would let loose, deep in the woods where their howls couldn't be heard by human ears. They would hunt and kill and feast. They would be uncontrolled, fierce creatures, and they would be a pack, sticking together and working as one.

Tonight was all about fun and games and frivolity and bonding. Just like the night _after _the full moon. But full moon night was dark and bloody and feral. God help any human that might be in the woods on a full moon night.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

As the sun began to rise, the six 'wolves were drooping with exhaustion as they made their way back to the Hale house. They were grumpy and grumbly and snappy and beyond ready for sleep. Everyone was dragging their feet, though, and it was taking longer than it should to get back because of it. Stiles initiated a race, to get them moving faster so they could get to sleep faster. The other 'wolves snarled and snapped at him, but they were all too competitive not to go along with it, especially when he taunted and teased them.

Derek won, of course. He was already lying on the blanket half-asleep when Stiles and Allison stumbled into the clearing, tying for second. Stiles bounded over to join him on the blanket, wolf melting away to human once more as his body started to shut down from exhaustion. He snuggled up against Derek's side, where he was laying in the middle of the blanket. He beamed when Derek rolled on his side and wraped his arms around him, pulling him close and burrying his face in Stiles' neck.

Alliosn waited for Scott, and then the two of them took their spots on the blanket, too. Scott snuggled up behind Stiles, with Allison in his arms, his nose pressed to the back of Stiles' head. Jackson flopped down at their feet, wrapping and arm around on eof Stiles' calves and pillowing his head on the other. Stiles shifted a little to get more comfortable, but let him stay there. Lydia was the last to lay down. She studied the puppy pile for a moment before deciding where she wanted to sleep. She ended up insinuating herself between Stiles' and Derek's legs, pressed up against Jackson, but with her head against Derek's thigh. Sneaky little sneak. Stiles eyed her as she smirked, but decided it wasn't worth it and closed his eyes.

Once everyone stopped moving around and shifting poistions, and everyone was finally still and comfortable, they dropped into sleep faster than a brick into water. It was less than a minute before all of them were dead to the world, breathing deep and even, heartbeats slow and steady.

Derek's sleep was blissfully blank with his pack surrounding him. The heat of their bodies and the lull of their heartbeats and the comforting scent of them kept away the nightmares , for now...

**Reviews are lovely loverly loves! My favorite readers are the ones who review! It doesn't always have to be good, either!**


	18. Chapter 18: Set Fire to the Rain

**Sorry it took so long to get this out. This is the first time I've been on a computer for any length of time in months. The laptop still isn't fixed, but I almost have enough money to do so, so please bear with me people. Love you guys! Hope you like it!**

**I did the best editing I could in a short amount of time, but sorry if I missed anything. The 'M' on the keyboard of this computer is fussy and has to be punched for it to work, lol.**

**SONG: Set Fire to the Rain - _Adele_**

_Intense brown eyes stared into his own, and he was entranced by them. He tried not to notice the bodies of Scott, Jackson, Lydia, and Allison littering the ground around them, cut in half, decapitated, burned. He kept his gaze on Stiles so he wouldn't have to see._

_"Why, Derek?" Stiles asked, voice cool and emotionless. His face was empty, hard, and beautiful. He looked like an angel. "Why did you do it? Why didn't you kill me, too?"_

_Derek was speechless. He didn't know what to say in the face of Stiles' calm complacency and his probing questions. "I love you," was all he could manage._

_"Didn't you love them, too?" Stiles asked, voice baring the faintest hint of some emotion that sounded alot like disdain. "All of them?" he spread his arms out, gesturing to the area around them, and Derek looked around, against his better judgement._

_Now it wasn't just his new pack lying dead at his feet, it was his family, too, their bodies lying in charred piles. His mom, his dad, his brother, sister, aunt, cousins. His twin, Laura, ripped in half. His Uncle Peter, burned and slashed._

_"It's your fault." Stiles whispered, voice flat and cold. "It's all your fault. You loved her too much, and your loved killed them..."_

_Derek could feel the tears pouring down his face. "No, no... no I didn't mean for this...I don't love her anymore..."_

_"I loved you so much," Stiles continued. "I would have done anything for you, you know." A single tear spilt from Stiles' eye. Derek reached out to wipe it away, but he couldn't reach Stiles somehow, even though he seemed to be only a couple of feet away. "But, it's too late now..."_

_Before anything more could be said or done, blood bubbled out of Stiles' softly smiling mouth, leaking down to stain the soft white shirt he was wearing. A blade appeared, ripping out of Stiles' belly from the inside. The stinging metal sliced in an arc, and Stiles' body fell, in two seperate pieces. Kate stood there, the offending weapon clutched in her white-knuckled hand._

_Derek wanted to scream, to howl, to cry, to kill, to do SOMETHING. He tried to move, but he couldn't. He was somehow glued to the spot, frozen and paralyzed. Kate stood before him, in the spot where Stiles once stood. She smiled at him with digusting sweetness. Her throat was slashed, gaping and bloody, but she was still beautiful, even in her death._

_"Oh, I'm sorry sweetie!" she purred, voice as sickeningly sweet as her fake smile. "Was that your mate?" Then she started to laugh. She laughed and laughed._

_Derek couldn't take it. His paralysis was broken as he began to transform into the hulking beastly form of the Alpha. He roared in her face, spraying her with saliva, but she just continued to laugh, high and sharp and mocking._

_Then he dove at her, ripped deep into the flesh of the woman he once loved, consuming her meat. But at least the laughing stopped. Hot blood sprayed his face, his body..._

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

The soft patter of warm rain sprinkled on Derek's face and body, and he jolted awake. He managed, with some difficulty, to keep still so that he wouldn't disturb his sleeping pack. Bits and pieces of his dream assaulted him, and he was glad he couldn't remember the beginning of it, the part where he had killed his friends and family. Kate killing Stiles was a recurring theme in his dreams. He hated how he was almost immune to the horror of it, now. Numb to it.

The dream could have been a hell of alot worse. The presence of his pack must have chased away the _really _horrible stuff. The dream was fucking sunshine and puppies compared with how it could have gone.

The rain was light and gentle and warm, marking the beginning of summer. It was slightly cooler than his overheated skin, and it felt nice.

Stiles was beginning to stir, half draped over his chest, disturbed by his fast and erratic heartbeat. A hot gust of breath bathed his neck as Stiles yawned.

"Is it raining?" Stiles mumbled, sounding slurred and adorably confused and more than half asleep. Derek's mouth tilted slightly in a crooked half-grin.

"Yeah, it is," he answered softly, not wanting to wake anyone else up.

"Oh. Okay," Stiles breathed, lips brushing against Derek's skin and giving him goosebumps. He snuggled in closer to Derek, arms going around his waist and face pressing against his cheek. "What time is it?" Stiles murmured.

The dark, low-hanging clouds were obscuring the sun, but he could tell the general area that the light was coming from. It was some time between nine am and two pm. Not that that helped much.

"I don't know," he answered in a low murmur. Stiles made a quiet _humph _noise, tongue darting out to taste Derek's cheek a moment later. Derek scowled, but it was good-natured kinda scowl. More like a trying-to-keep-from-laughing scowl.

"Your face is gonna get stuck like that one day," Stiles muttered into his cheek, eyes still closed. Derek didn't know how he knew he was scowling, and he didn't bother to ask. He just pulled Stiles closed and breathed in his warm, comforting scent, the smell tinged with the scents of the rest of his pack, surrounding them. He heard the sound of Stiles' contented sigh, and then his breathing began to even out again, his heartbeat began to slow back down as he dropped back into his slumber.

Derek buried his face in the boy's neck and tried to follow him into sleep, but he was too anxious. He didn't want to have another dream, one that would be possibly worse than the previous one. It was too close to the full moon, and his wolf was too close to the surface. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He wasn't even really tired anymore, anyway. At least, that's what he told himself.

If he got up, or moved around too much, though, he would wake up Stiles again, and the rest of his pack. He didn't want to disturb their sleep. So he decided to just lie there. It wasn't a horrible fate, to lie there with Stiles in his arms and his friends surrounding him as the gentle summer rain washed over them. He would just stay there until the rest of them woke up. He was patient. He could sit still for days on end if he had to. He was a good watcher, a good stalker. This wasn't much different than that.

So he lay there, staring at the glittering wet woods at the edge of the clearing, breathing in the smell of the boy he cared about far too much. He tried to keep the images of his dream out of his head, but he couldn't manage to. What stuck the most was the words he himself had spoken. _"I love you."_ He'd said that to Stiles. And Stiles had said it, too. That was a first. He'd never said that in a dream, that he could recall.

He couldn't help but wonder just what it meant...

**Sorry it's so short. It was gonna be alot longer, but my time on the computer came to an abrupt end, so I had to cut off a big unfinished piece at the end. Too bad, it probably would have been at least twice as long if I'd been able to finish. Next time I post, I'll try to make it longer, but I can't make any promises. It depends on how long I can get on a computer for.**

**Please review and let me know what you think! I love all you readers out there, but my faves are always the ones who review! lol**


	19. Chapter 19: Rain Dance

**On the way to the library today to update, I saw a shiny new black camaro. It made me smile and say, "Derek's car!" My BF was like, "WHAT? Who's Derek?" lmao. Then, less than five minutes later, I saw a gunmetal porsche, haha. Awesome.**

**Sorry if this chapter seems to ramble, or isn't very good. Every chapter before eighteen got most of a day spent writing it, so I had time to edit and revise and refine. Today I have five hours, so I can't promise anything spectacular, lol, but I'll do my best.**

**I've written and re-written this chapter so many times by hand, and now that I finally have the chance to type it out, I've changed it completely, lol.**

**SONG: The Adventures of Raindance Maggie - **_**Red Hot Chilli Peppers**_

Derek didn't have as long to wait as he thought he might. It was probably Derek's uneven heartbeat, or maybe the feeling of being watched, but Stiles was awake less than half an hour after Derek.

Derek looked away quickly when Stiles awoke, but he could feel those intense brown eyes scrutinizing him in silence. He didn't say anything, tried to pretend like he didn't realize Stiles was awake. Stiles continued to stare at him. Derek finally turned his head, looking at Stiles with his typical scowl.

"What? Why are you staring at me?"

Stiles' lips twitched, as if he were trying not to smile.

"Creepy, isn't it?" He asked, amusement lacing his voice. Derek looked away silently. "It's even creepier being stared at while you're sleeping," he said, laughing as he sat up. His back was to the older man, or he would have seen the faint, brief flush upon his skin. Derek didn't know how Stiles always seemed to know things, but it was a bit creepy in itself.

It actually kind of reminded him of his mom, oddly enough. She always seemed to know when he and his siblings were up to something, like she had eyes and ears everywhere. He never figured out how she did it. He had the brief thought that Stiles would make a good father, then immediately hated himself for thinking such things.

Stiles whipped around to look at him. His stare was piercing for an instant before his expression softened as he snickered and shook his head.

"Why didn't you wake us all up when it started to rain?" he asked, huffing with laughter. Everyone was beginning to stir around them, awakened by the sound of their voices, and Stiles' movement. "Their phones and stuff are on the table, probably ruined by now..."

Derek had forgotten that their phones and belongings were on the table. It wasn't a top priority for him, since it wasn't he or Stiles' stuff. He sat up next to Stiles, shrugging.

"Good thing you left yours in your car, huh?" Stiles laughed. Lydia groaned at the noise, rolling over, kicking Jackson in the process.

"Is it raining?" Scott asked incredulously, lying on his stomach on the other side of Stiles. He raised up on his elbows and blinked around in confusion.

"No, genius. Someones pissing on you," Stiles said with a smirk, completely disregarding the fact that he had asked Derek the same stupid question not even that long ago.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Scott said, rolling onto his back and sitting up. Lydia was still lying down, grumbling about her hair. Allison was awake and rubbing at her face, and Jackson was stretching and contorting on his back, trying to work out the kinks that sleeping on the ground always gave him.

The rain was pounding just a little harder now, but it was still gentle and straight, no wind blowing at all. The sun even peaked out from behind the clouds a little every now and then. But Derek could see darker clouds approaching, far in the west. Clouds so dark they were nearly black. The rain might be calm and gentle now, but he knew it wouldn't stay that way.

"My purse!" Lydia suddenly exclaimed, bolting upright into a sitting position. She climbed quickly to her feet while Stiles tried not to laugh at her.

"What would you need with a purse, anyway?" Derek asked as he rose to his feet, raising his arms above him to execute a full-body stretch. "It's really your own fault if it's ruined..."

Lydia glared at him as she tried vainly to dry her purse with her soaked shirt.

"My phone," Scott groaned. "That's the fourth one this year!" Allison was already scurrying over to the table to rescue her already ruined cell phone, and she grabbed Scott's in the process.

"Oh, well," she sighed. Jackson seemed to be the only one that didn't really care about his phone. He strolled casually over to the table and pocketed his sopping wet wallet.

"I wanted the new I-phone, anyway. Now I don't have to wait." he said, shrugging, answering the unspoken question in Scott's eyes as he looked at him.

Stiles was the only one that hadn't stood up yet. He couldn't take his eyes off of Derek. The Alpha stood a few feet away, stretching as the rain poured over his mostly-bare skin. His hair was plastered to his forehead by the rain, and his muscles rippled and bunched as he loosened them up. Stiles licked his lips involuntarily, eyes dilating slightly as he watched.

The scent of his arousal wafted slowly in the rain, but Derek wasn't standing too far away. His head snapped around quickly to look curiously at Stiles, wondering why he was turned on all of a sudden. He was a little surprised to find the boy's dark eyes glued to him. The rest of the pack was across the yard, closer to the house. It was dark because of the clouds, and the branches of the tree they were under drooped a bit, obscuring them slightly. It was almost as if they were in their own little world as they stared at each other.

Stiles slowly rose to his feet, not taking his eyes off of Derek. He licked his lips again, and Derek's gaze dropped away from his eyes, to his mouth, then down to his body as the rain started to pour over him in the same alluring way as it was doing to Derek. They stared at each other, lost in a haze, for longer than either of them realized. Until a voice snapped them out of it.

"Whenever you two are done eye-fucking each other, maybe we should dicuss what were doing today. You know, since it's _raining_ and all," Lydia said, sounding a little annoyed. Derek looked at her quickly, eyes tearing themselves away from Stiles with some difficulty. She stood a few feet away, hands planted on her hips, smirking in that sly way she did. Stiles didn't bother to look away from Derek. He wasn't going to let Lydia ruin his fantasies. He was still staring hungrily at Derek as he spoke.

"We can go to my house and eat breakfast," he muttered, licking his lips again. He wanted to have Derek for breakfast. Derek glanced at him, noticed that he was still staring, and glanced quickly back at Lydia.

"Sounds good to me," he said, and Lydia sighed.

"There, we've discussed it. Can we go back to eye-fucking each other now?" Stiles said, grinning slightly. "Or maybe we can actually-"

"We should get going, then," Derek said, maybe a little too loudly, cutting off what Stiles had been about to say. Stiles couldn't help but chuckle. Derek was so adorable when he was flustered. And Stiles certainly knew how to get him flustered.

Allison and the two boys had already put everything away that had been left out the day before, and put their stuff in Allison's car. Everyone was ready to go as Stiles picked up the wet blanket from the ground and balled it up, tossing it in the back of his jeep so he could take it home and wash it.

"You're gonna ride with me, right?" Stiles asked, looking at Derek through the rain as the six werewolves walked along the dirt path toward the cars. Derek glanced at him briefly, then back to the path ahead of him. He seemed reluctant to look at Stiles for too long, now, as if afraid to get caught in another eye-fucking session. Stiles smirked at the thought.

"Yeah. I don't see why we should take four cars. I'll ride with you and the other three can ride with Allison." Derek answered. Stiles beamed. They weren't taking the camaro because Derek didn't want it to smell like wet dog, Stiles was sure.

"You're dad's not gonna care that were all coming over?" Scott asked as the cars came into sight. Stiles snickered.

"He's not gonna know. He went to Sacramento for three days." Scott got an odd look on his face, but Stiles continued, ignoring it. "He said I could only have one friend over, unless they were girls. So, the way I see it, Allison cancels you out, Lydia cancels out Jackson, and Derek's my one friend!" He was so proud of his amazing logic, and he beamed. Lydia snorted.

"That doesn't make any sense," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up, it does too! If I explained it to my dad that way he would forgive me, and that's all that matters..." Scott still had a weird look on his face, and Stiles was starting to wonder about it. He stopped Scott as he opened Allison's door and began to climb into the car.

"What's up, man?" he asked, brow furrowing. Scott shook his head, as though confused, or trying to clear it.

"It's just weird. My mom is gone for three days, too. A nurses conference in Sacramento, she said..." Scott was frowning, staring at the ground as though thinking. A disgusting and shocking realization dawned on Stiles as he remembered how it had seemed as if his dad wasn't being entirely truthful.

"Ugh, you don't think...?"

"I don't want to tghink about it!" Scott sqeaked. "Let's not talk about it!" Everyone else was laughing.

"Old people need love, too," Lydia contributed sagely. Stiles and Scott made twin faces of horror and disgust.

Scott climbed into the car, still shaking his head, and Jackson climbed into the back next to him. The girls took the front seats, and Stiles snickered seeing the boys in the back like they were children. He turned around to see that Derek as already sitting in the jeep, and he hurried to get into the drivers seat as the Honda was already starting up. He tucked his phone, Ipod and wallet into the glovebox as he got in. Derek held his wallet in his hand, and he shoved it in with Stiles' while the hatch was open.

Stiles put the thought of his dad and Scott's mom far from his mind, shuddering in disgust one last time, and looked over at Derek, sitting next to him shirtless and wet. It would be so easy to just sit here, to let the Honda drive off with the rest of the pack while they stayed behind and christened Stiles' Jeep.

"Stiles." Derek said, a slight warning in his tone as he saw the look in the boy's dark eyes. He knew that if Stiles turned on the charm and really comitted himself to it, Derek would be putty in his hands and the rest of the pack would be driving off without them. He couldn't let that happen. That was not an option right now.

Stiles sighed. He knew that tone. He could probably change Derek's mind, if he tried, but this wasn't really the right moment anyway. He needed to get to his house and cook breakfast for his pack. His stomach rumbled at the thought. He realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast the previous day, and his stomach grumbled louder. Derek snickered at the noise, even as his own stomach echoed it.

The honda was already down the road, out of sight, as Stiles started the jeep. He glanced over at Derek, who seemed to be intentionally avoiding his gaze. He took Stiles' Ipod out of the glovebox and plugged it in, then started flipping through the music absently before settling on The Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Stiles opned his mouth to speak and Derek turned the music up a little. Stiles closed his mouth. Regarded Derek for a moment. Then he looked at the road and didn't look at Derek again for the entire ride to his house. Derek stared out the window in silence. The music filled the space between them.

When they arrived at the house the other four were still sitting in the car. They looked as if they were having an argument. When Stiles pulled in and shut off the engine, they went silent, climbing out of the Honda with innocent smiles. Stiles and Derek shared a look as they got their stuff out of the glovebox and Stiles pocketed his Ipod. Derek shrugged.

"What's up guys?" Stiles said as they got out of the jeep and the six of them made their way toward the house.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?" Lydia said quickly, before anyone else could reply. Stiles gave her a suspicious look, glanced at the other three, who were all avoiding his gaze. He looked back at Derek, but the Alpha didn't really seem to care, didn't seem interested in the fact that the four other members of their pack seemed to be hiding something from them.

He didn't answer Lydia as he unlocked his back door, letting the six of them into his house. He didn't like it when people kept secrets from him, and he always got to the bottom of them.

He had led them to the back of his house so they could go in through the landry room and wouldn't be tracking mud and rain through the house. He didn't feel like spending an afternoon cleaning the carpet before his dad got home.

The werewolves stripped off their wet clothes and tossed them in Stiles drier. He fetched Scott and Allison some of Scott's old clothes that had been left there months ago, and everyone else got a pair of drawstring sweats. Lydia was not happy.

"Don't you have anything _else_?" she sneered, standing there in her underwear and wrinkling her nose at the pair of sweatpants and the t-shirt he was holding out for her. Stiles growled in irritation.

"We went through this once already, _princess_. I don't typically entertain teenage girls in my house." She gave him a look and he snickered. "I never bring girls home with me."

"Well, can I at least _try_ to find something presentable in your limited wardrobe?" She asked, rolling her eyes, hand planted on her hip. Stiles sighed in a put-upon way.

"I suppose. Let's go." They started up the stairs, and Stiles called over his shoulder, "Jacks, start breakfast. I'll be down in a minute to help." Jackson nodded and rushed into the kitchen, followed by Derek, leaving Scott and Allison to cuddle on the couch.

Lydia wiggled her hips a bit as she walked, and Stiles wondered if she was doing it on purpose or if she was just so used to doing it that it was unconcious thing now.

He stepped in front of her and opened his door, motioning her inside, and she immediately went to his dresser and began digging through his drawers. He crossed his arms over his chest, draping his lean body against the doorframe with bored disinterest.

"Just hurry it up," he said. "I don't want Jackson burning down my kitchen..."

"I'm sure you want to get back to Derek, too." she said, laughing a little mockingly. Stiles fought the growl rising in his chest.

"What do you know?" he said through his teeth. What right did she have to say anything about the relationship - or lackthereof - that he and Derek had? She turned around and fixed him with a look that said, 'are you serious?' He scowled at her. She avoided his gaze, scoffing, turning back around to dig through his clothes.

"What DON'T I know?" she muttered. "It's obvious you're in love with him. How do you think Derek feels about that, huh? Everyone he's ever loved died because of him. You think he wants anything to do with you?" Her words came out harsher than she had intended, and she sighed.

Stiles shut his bedroom door abruptly, anger tensing the lines of his body as he moved slowly toward Lydia. She tensed up as well, as she realized he was advancing toward her. She swallowed, but tried to act as if she didn't care as she kept sorting through Stiles' drawers.

Then Stiles was directly behind her. She was uncomfortably aware that she was still in her bra and underwear, and that this was his territory. His hands came down on either side of hers and his hot breath was on her neck. He was touching her very lightly. She could feel the heat of his body and the brush of soft fabric. A deep growl rumbled out of his chest.

"If I ever hear you say anything like that about Derek again, I will rip your fucking throat out," his voice was so deep and growling that she barely recognized it as his. It was so full of anger, so serious, that she shivered in fear.

"I-I didn't, I'm not-" she stuttered, hating herself for being so affected by Stiles' anger. "I'm sorry." She finally said. Stiles pressed against her, pinning her to the front of his dresser as she stared down at his hands. His claws dug into the top of the dresser, knuckles white.

"Do you know what it would do to him if he heard you saying that?" Stiles snarled. "He already blames himself for everything, but to hear that you blame him, too... it would make him think that's how all of us felt. Is that what you want?" Lydia automatically shook her head.

"No, of course not. I don't blame him, either. I just..."

"You just wanted to hurt me. To get under my skin." Stiles finished, then laughed bitterly. "You're so good at getting under my skin, you know that? Ever since I met you..." he trailed off and shook his head, backed away from her, and she spun around to face him.

"I wasn't trying to _hurt_ you," she said. "I was just trying to make you _see_."

"I already see everything, Lydia. I know what he's going through, and I know why he won't let his guard down with me, and I know why he punishes himself by living in that old piece of crap house. I know more than you or he or anyone else thinks," Stiles sounded anguished, and he sighed, running his hands over his face in a familiar gesture. Lydia spun back around, uncomfortable with Stiles' display of emotion. She pulled out one of his undershirts and put it on, then a pair of his cotton basketball shorts, suddenly feeling vulnerable and naked in just her bra and panties.

"We should get back downstairs before they think something is going on," Stiles said with a smirk. He was surprised when Lydia didn't immediately snicker and mock him and say something like "in your dreams", like she usually did. She just gave him a curious sideways look as she passed him, opening his door and starting down the stairs without him. He watched her go, then sighed and followed her down, shutting his door behind him.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

"That was delicious," Alliosn said, beaming at Stiles. Stiles smiled back.

"Hey, I helped, too!" Jackson said.

"And Derek supervised," Stiles reminded Allison. He and Allison weren't particularly close, but she was always nice. Maybe they'd be closer friends if they spent more time togather than three days a month and lunch period at school. He looked over at Scott, who was staring adoringly at his mate, as usual.

Stiles knew that part of the reason that the pack was so broken and distant was because of their Alpha. They five of them didn't spend much time together, they weren't as close as most packs. They spent three nights a month together and the rest was spent alone for the most part. They saw each other at lunch, between classes, but didn't hang out outside of school very often. It was because they didn't have a strong Alpha.

Stiles felt guilty for even thinking it, but it was true. Derek couldn't control them like he should have been able to, couldn't run his pack because he was still so torn up over everything that had happened, and he couldn't move past it. How could he be a strong and capable Alpha when he was going through so much emotional and psychological turmoil? When he had dreams that were so bad that they made him lose control of himself? When he lived in that ruined house, surrounded by the ghosts of his dead family, torturing himself for something he thought was his fault? How could they ever be connected and in synch when their Alpha couldn't get away from his past?

Stiles knew he had to try to help. No one else really saw the problem, except for Lydia, and she didn't even know the full extent of it. She didn't know about Derek's problems with controlling his wolf.

Stiles was trying to bring harmony to the pack, to help everyone find thier place so there would be peace. That was why he had started things with Jackson in the first place, and that was part of why he had been so angry over Derek's anger.

He would have to try harder. He knew he had been passive lately, letting himself be segregated and accepting the fact that everyone spent so little time together. Things were going to change. They were going to start bonding as a pack, spending time with Derek, even if he had to force them and bribe them and threaten them. They couldn't be a disconnected pack any longer. It was taking a toll on all of them, especially Derek, who needed the love and comfort of his family. _They_ were his family now, and the only way he would heal was with their help.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I

While Jackson was doing the dishes, Scott and the girls went into the living room to watch TV. Derek sat at the table and watched Stiles as he turned on his phone and started to fiddle with it. He listened to a voicemail, and Derek could hear the voice of an irate girl chewing Stiles out for standing her up. His lips twitched as he realized it was _his_ fault Stiles had stood her up.

"Who was _that_?" Jackson asked as he dried his hands, coming to stand next to the two where they sat at the table.

"Amber," Stiles said offhandedly. "I was supposed to take her out last night." He looked meaningfully at Derek. "I completely forgot about her."

"Amber _Baxter_?" Jackson said incredulously. Stiles nodded.

"I have fifteen missed calls from her. Two voicemails, and twenty-two texts messages... bitch is crazy," he laughed.

"Wow." Jackson said, a bit reverently. "Who in their right mind would stand up _Amber Baxter_? She's a cheerleader! She's, like, a supermodel!" Stiles snorted, shaking his head.

"Not hardly," he muttered as he deleted the texts and voicemail and turned off his phone.

"You're not calling her back?" Derek asked quietly. Stiles looked at him, and the two stared at each other for a moment. It was the first thing Derek had said since before they had gotten in the car. Stiles wondered why he was curious. He broke the stare first, looking down at his phone.

"No. I'll see her at school and let her know something more important came up." He sighed as he thought about exactly what it was that had distracted him from Amber. So much had changed within the last few days, and he was very content with those changes, to say the least. Ranks had been established, and he and Derek had grown closer. They had finally moved past making out, and Stiles hoped to push it even further as soon as possible.

He smirked when he thought of how Amber would react when he told her there was something more important than her. He toyed with the idea of telling her he had spent last night with a guy. He wondered what she'd say to that!. She was one of those high maintenance selfish girls who thought everything was supposed to be about them and that they were the most important thing in the world. The only reason Stiles had asked her out was because she seemed easy. He was a little ashamed of that, and thought it might have been a mistake, especially if she turned out to be a psycho.

Derek got up from the table suddenly and walked out of the kitchen. Stiles watched him as he crossed the living room and started up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" he called after his Alpha.

"Bathroom," Derek answered before disappearing from sight. There was a bathroom downstairs, but Stiles didn't say anything, just stared at the staircase for a minute before he stood up.

"Be right back," he muttered. Jackson gave him a knowing look as he nodded, going to join the other three in the living room in front of the TV.

Stiles crossed the living room and ascended the stairs...

**Sorry for the abrupt ending. It's long, I know. I said it would be! I was trying to fit everything into this chapter so that the next chapter could be the full moon night! Didn't get everything to fit, though, so there will be one more chapter before the nightfall.**

**I've had some people asking about when Danny is going to be discussed. Be patient! Danny is coming soon! I haven't forgotten!**

**Please review! I'm nervous about this chapter. It was kind of rushed and I don't know how good it is….**


	20. Chapter 20: Our Deal

**When I am able to access the internet regularly again, I promise to go back and edit and revise and re-write the crappy parts! lol.**

**Having car trouble now, so I won't be able to get to the library as often. You guys may have to wait awhile for the next chapter... hope it won't be too long though! I'll do my best to get it done!**

**SONG: Our Deal - _Best Coast_**

Jackson saw the determined look cross Stiles' face as he went upstairs, following in the steps of their Alpha. He had some idea of what was going to happen up there. He grinned at the thought as he went to join the others in the living room.

Lydia was sitting on the couch, and Scott and Allison were sharing an armchair. Jackson sat on the couch, on the opposite side as Lydia. She gave him a cool look before turning back to the TV and ignoring him.

It seemed like so long ago that the two of them had been at his house making out, the night Lydia went to Stiles' house. Apparently, Jackson wasn't acting as assertive or aggressive as Lydia wanted him to, because she pushed him away and got out of his bed. She made some bitchy comment about hiow it was obvbious that _he_was the Omega of the pack. Wahtever, he'd heard it before from her. But this time was different. She threatened to leave him, to go find someone more dominant, and that was what pissed him off.

He never seemed to be good enough for Lydia, no matter what he did. She belittled him and used him and made him do things he didn't want to do. She made everything about herself. Everything he had accomplished was because she had pushed him to do it. Which wouldn't be so bad, if his accomplishments were things he genuinely wanted, too. She didn't care either way. As long as she looked good next to him. And she always did.

He had called her a self-centerted whore and told her to get out of his house. When he turned around, his curtains were flapping in the breeze from the open window and Lydia was gone.

He knew, then, that she had gone to either Stiles or Derek, the only two that were more dominant than her. He also knew that her quest was futile, because they were in love with _each other_. Jackson hadn't known that then, that had been a recent realization, but he had known there was something between them. He didn't think Lydia stood much of a chance.

That didn't stop him from calling Derek to see if he knew where Lydia was, and spilling the details of their fight to his stoic Alpha. It also didn't stop him from being pissed off the next morning when Lydia had showed up to school reeking of Stiles and wearing one of his shirts. While he was sitting in his homeroom class, fuming, he had gotten a text that someone had seen the two of them making out in the parking lot after Stiles had given her a ride to school. Jackson took that to mean she had spent the night with him.

Jackson still thought of her as his, despite their fight the night before. He felt like Stiles had encroached on his territory. He didn't even doubt it for a second, considering the rumors he'd heard around school about Stiles and half the female student body. _Especially_considering Stiles' feelings for Lydia. It was possible to be in love with two people at once. Jackson knew from experience.

The mistake he made was confronting Stiles about it. Stiles was his dominant. That was obvious, even if it hadn't been formally established. Jackson just gave in when that little fun fact had worked its way past the haze of his animal side. When Stiles had done his weird little one-eighty, going from egging him on to trying to calm him down. Sometimes he thought the guy had spilt personality disorder or something.

Stiles had said that he didn't want Lydia. Jackson noticed that Lydia looked a more than a bit pissed off about it. That didn't keep him from going to her, wrapping his arm around her and acting as if everything was okay, like he always did.

He had a feeling she might be going for Derek next. Jackson suspected she'd be even less successful with the Alpha.

When he'd given her a ride home after school that day, she'd told him she was done with him. As if she had just been keeping him around for convenience and he had no say in it. She poked and prodded and tried to start a fight with him, but he wouldn't rise to her bait. He dropped her off at her house and didn't look back. They hadn't said anything to the rest of the pack yet, and continued acting as if everything was the same, as if everything was fine and nothing had changed. But there was a tense wariness between them, that had never been there before. Jackson found that he kind of liked it. He felt free.

His relationship with Lydia had always been dysfunctional and fucked up, even before the whole werewolf-business. Their animal sides just added the icing on the cake. He was just surprised things hadn't ended sooner. He never thought he would turn out to be submissive, but then, he supposed it made sense, with his insecurity issues and the way Lydia always bossed him around. How could he be anything _but_submissive? He was never given the opportunity to.

He and Lydia had been dating since middle school, and it was weird to think that he didn't have a girlfriend anymore. He had never been with anyone else.

Well, except Danny. He'd never been with any other _female_, anyway.

He tried not to think about Danny.

"So, what kind of cake did we decide on, again?" Scott suddenly asked. Jackson looked at Scott, breaking his gaze away from the TV that he'd been staring at blankly as he was lost in his thoughts. He and Lydia shared a look. He hated how familiar it felt, and he looked away quickly, back to Scott.

"We _didn't_decide, remember?" Jackson reminded him, a bit irritated. "You said triple chocolate was his favorite, and the rest of us thought we should wait and see what Derek's opinion was."

"Well," Scott said matter-of-factly, his voice rising slightly. "If Derek knows Stiles, like, _at all_, he'll just say triple chocolate, too. I'm telling you, that's Stiles' favorite!"

"Sssshhhh!" Everyone hissed at Scott, casting paranoid looks at the staircase where Stiles had disappeared. Scott just snickered.

"He's not gonna hear, don't worry. I'm sure he's busy paying attention to other things..." he trailed off suggestively and the four of them tried to stifle their laughter. "But, seriously? Triple chocolate is the way to go."

Lydia gave Scott a withering look as Jackson rolled his eyes. Allison grabbed the remote while Lydia was distracted glaring at Scott and started flipping channels. They basically had nothing to do but sit around and watch TV and hope that Stiles and Derek managed to work out their issues. The pack would be stronger for it…

**Short chapter. Wanted to give a little from Jackson's perspective, try to explain a few things. Didn't have long to write this, and it was meant to be longer...**

**You guys are gonna have to wait awhile to see what happens upstairs with Stiles and Derek! Hope you don't die of anticipation, lol.**

**Please review! I love feedback, and I'd love to hear some speculation on what you think is going to happen next...**

**By the way, you guys should check out the video for the song from this chapter. It's awesome, hehe. Tyler Posey is in it! I reccomend the extended version on mtv . com**


	21. Chapter 21: What Do You Do To Be Loved?

**I'm sorry this took so long to get out. I had a thousand versions of this chapter written down, and this what I came out with. I still don't have my own computer, so be patient in waiting for the next chapter. It shouldn't be too much longer. I just couldn't make you guys wait any longer for this chapter. I hope it isn't a disappointment to anyone.**

**Oh! You guys should check out LoveLorn Lupine's fic, A New Breed. She only has the first chapter posted, but it's really good. She's a close personal friend of mine, and she needs readers! Lol**

**SONGS: What Do You Do? - _Papa Roach_**

**To Be Loved..._ - Papa Roach_**

There were four bathrooms in the house, but somehow Stiles knew Derek was in his. He slipped silently through the open door of his room and closed it softly behind him, clicking the lock into place.

Derek was just coming out of the bathroom as Stiles turned around, and he tried not to look guilty. Derek looked suspicious anyway, and Stiles knew he probably hadn't succeeded.

The scent of lemon antibacterial soap hung in the air, wafting from the open bathroom door. Stiles stepped a little closer to Derek, eyes glued to his face.

"Hey."

Derek shut the bathroom door quietly behind him. He looked a little wary as he eyes Stiles, gaze flicking to the door, the window, and back again. As if he were noting the escape routes. Stiles fought not to smirk.

"Don't worry, door's locked," he murmured, lips twitching a bit. Derek's hands clenched into fists, then unclenched again. He took a breath.

"Stiles." He sounded like he was trying to be menacing, trying to warn him away. His jaw was clenched so tightly a muscle ticked.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked softly. He wanted to move closer to Derek, to touch him, but he resisted the urge, staying close to the door.

"Nothing."

Stiles frowned. "You've been quiet..."

Derek scoffed. "Yeah, because I'm usually _so _talkative." His eyes flicked toward the door again, but Stiles was barring his escape. He just looked at him with that dark gaze, ignoring the sarcasm, eyes penetrating and intense. Derek stuck his hands in the pockets of the pants and tried not to fidget.

"Look, can we just..." He gestured toward the door before plunging his hands back into his pockets. Stiles didn't answer. He took a couple of steps closer. Derek resisted the urge to back away even though there was still plenty of distance between them. Even so, Derek could still feel that razor-sharp edge of energy that flowed between them at all times, could feel it strengthen the closer Stiles got to him. That connection that had been present from the moment Derek had sunk his teeth into Stiles' flesh.

Sometimes it was stronger than other times, sometimes he could barely feel it at all, and if he ignored it he could pretend it wasn't there. He had the same connection with the rest of his pack - they were all connected this way - but he had begun to realize, lately, that it was strongest with Stiles. When he'd first noticed it, he figured it was because he was just closer with Stiles, because Stiles was technically the first member of his pack. Over time, though, he came to realize that it wasn't the simple connection he had with any of the other pack, it was more like the link between Scott and Allison. The Mate Connection.

He didn't want to admit it, but it was undeniable.

Stiles could calm him down when no one else could.  
>Stiles always seemed so in tune with him; how he felt and where he was. He knew that he could feel Stiles in the same way, too, if he let himself.<br>Stiles knew it all, saw everything, knew the truth of him, and he didn't turn away.

He didn't know when he'd realized it for sure, but he knew it to be the truth. He knew that should have made him happy, but he couldn't help thinking that Stiles still didn't really know what he was getting himself into. He was only sixteen. The same age Derek had been when he was _so sure _he was in love with a woman six years older than him. So in love that it had blinded him, and cost him his whole life.

He didn't want Stiles to end up like him, _because _of him. He would never intentionally destroy Stiles' life, of course, but he couldn't help feeling like that's what would happen if they were together, whether he wanted it to or not. Derek didn't want to be that selfish again.

Stiles was still just standing there, looking at him. He stood utterly immobile, and Derek didn't know he could be so still. He could see the knowledge in Stiles' eyes, the awareness of how Derek was feeling, of what he had discovered within himself.

Derek just wanted to flee, to get away from the tension in the room and that look in Stiles' eyes and the feelings rushing through him. He felt like a caged animal. Like a cornered fox making it's last stand against the hounds.

He hated that image, that feeling like he was the prey, and he dismissed it from his head, determined not to let himself feel that way. He couldn't dismiss the feeling of wanting to flee, though, and it raged in him. He glanced toward the window again, fixated on it, stared at it, wanting to escape. He saw Stiles frown a little, from the corner of his eye.

"I think we should talk," Stiles muttered. Derek's heart pounded, threatening to burst out of his chest. Talking was the last thing he wanted to do.

"_No_. We're going back downstairs, Stiles. Move." He tried to make his voice sound commanding, knowing that Stiles would argue. It came out sounding a bit shaky, though, and he hated himself for it. Stiles scowled fiercely.

"No! I'm not going anywhere and neither are you!" His voice was hard and sharp, taking the same tone that Derek had tried to force. It was too commanding for Derek's liking. He gave Stiles a warning look. Stiles shifted his feet a little nervously, but didn't look away, didn't back down. Derek narrowed his eyes.

"Move out of my way," Derek said slowly, somehow managing to sound menacing this time. Stiles just ignored him. He took a deep breath and stepped a little closer. Once again, Derek resisted the urge to back away.

"Cut the shit, Der. I know what you're trying to do." His words were quiet and fiercely intense, and Derek itched to escape them. "You're trying to run away from me. AGAIN! Like you _always _do!" His voice rose, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes were dark and searing. But he was right. Derek wanted to run away as fast as he could.

"Don't do this, Stiles." He wasn't ready to have this discussion, and he didn't think he ever would be. But Stiles was just too damn stubborn for his own good.

"Don't do what? Don't love you? Because it's a little fucking late for that!" Stiles snarled. Derek had to get away. From those words, and from that tone, and from the look on Stiles' face. He couldn't even look at Stiles.

"I'm not doing this right now," he growled, turning and starting for the window. Stiles stopped his short, grabbing his arm and pulling him back around.

"Then _when_, Derek? Huh? When?" His voice was quiet but livid, and Derek didn't like how angry he sounded. He wanted to escape the anger and the difficult questions and just be on his own for awhile. But Stiles had to make things difficult for him, of course, like he always did. Not that it wasn't exactly what he deserved.

"Let me go," he rasped, halfheartedly trying to pull his arm away. Stiles clung to him with an iron grip.

"Tell me you don't want me, that I'm not your mate, and I'll let you run as far away as you want, Derek. Just tell me that." He sounded pleading, as if he really did want Derek to tell him that, as if that was what he wanted, too.

Derek's jaw tightened again. He kept his eyes on the carpet under his feet, tried to focus, to calm his heartbeat. He needed to if he was going to lie.

"You're not my mate," he said firmly. Stiles looked at him for a moment, and he was sure he had succeeded.

"Liar." Stiles growled. Okay, maybe he hadn't succeeded. He sighed. "You think I can't hear your lie?" Stiles continued. "You think you can trick _me_? You taught me how to detect deception, remember that?"

He remembered. It was the same day he realized how attracted to Stiles he was, and how careful he needed to be so Stiles would never find out. How could he forget? He was just hoping that if he focused enough and spoke quickly enough, Stiles wouldn't be able to hear the skip in his heartbeat. Too bad it hadn't worked. With his obvious lie, he had basically admitted that Stiles _was _his mate.

"No, I don't remember," he lied again.

"Stop lying to me." Stiles voice was quiet, but still steely. "You told me you would never lie to me. Remember _that_? You said pack doesn't keep secrets from one another. What happened to that, Der?"

"I would have said anything you wanted to hear to gain your loyalty," Derek muttered, hating himself for the way his heartbeat didn't skip at all as he said it. He abruptly jerked his arm out of Stiles grasp, and it came away easily. He still couldn't look at Stiles. He could feel the surprise and the hurt that must be on his face. He could actually fucking _feel _it. The sensation was so strange. He never would have allowed Stiles to get so attached to him, back then, if he had known Stiles was meant to be his mate. And he would never have allowed himself to get so attached to Stiles either.

He had to get away, get some air and clear his head. The feeling of being caged and cornered threatened to overwhelm him again, and he moved toward the window once more, and again Stiles stopped him, stepping in front of him. He didn't look angry any more, just kind of sad... which was about a thousand time worse than the anger.

"Goddamn you, Stiles!" he snarled. He hated how Stiles made him feel. It was frustrating and exhilarating and terrifying, and he'd never felt it before, and he just wanted to get away from it. But Stiles wouldn't let him. He blocked his path, looked at him with those sad brown eyes, and that look reminded him of the dream he'd had that morning, making his escape even more desperate.

"Derek. Look at me." Stiles' voice was quiet and gentle, maybe a little shaky, but Derek may have been imagining that. He couldn't take the force of those sad brown eyes. He couldn't look at him. "Please..." Well, fuck. Who could argue with that? He slowly raised his head to meet Stiles' gaze. He didn't seem so sad any more. The determination was back, the stubbornness. "I know you think you're doing what's best for me, but by running away from me, you're hurting everyone. Can't you trust me enough to let me make my own decision? Don't I deserve that much? Every pack needs a good leader, and how can you be that leader when you're denying a part of yourself? Stop trying to control everything and let go." Derek shook his head, but didn't look away from Stiles' face. He knew Stiles was right, he just didn't want to accept it, didn't want to give in so easily. "Stop running, Der." Stiles stepped forward, brushed his thumb over Derek's cheekbone in a light caress. Derek flinched at the touch. "Stop denying me..."

Derek felt like he was losing control, like his stress and worry and fear were melting away. It was a pleasant experience and a shocking one. One he wasn't entirely sure he welcomed. Stiles' words made sense, and they almost made him feel stupid, like he had been acting this way, all this time, for no reason whatsoever. He knew there was a reason, a damned good one, but he just couldn't remember it at the moment. And somehow he didn't really care.

"I'm not going to let you run away anymore," Stiles murmured. "We can make this work, if you let it." Before Derek could reply or react, Stiles was leaning in and brushing their lips together in a slow stroke. Derek leapt guiltily, almost bumping their heads together, but Stiles stilled him, running his hands down his back as he stepped closer still, deepening the kiss.

Before they could go too much further - with them one kiss always led to more - Derek pulled away. Stiles looked a little disappointed as he regarded Derek, lips wet and open. Derek sighed, denying his urge to lean in and capture that tantalizing mouth with his own once again.

"Okay, Stiles," he breathed, almost wincing, as if the words pained him. "Okay, we can try this. But you have to promise that we'll take things slow. I need time to- ...we can't jump right into a serious relationship. I can't claim you yet..." Stiles was beaming, and Derek trailed off at the look on his face.

"Anything," Stiles breathed, sounding relieved as he stepped forward. "Anything you need, anything you want. We have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere..." Derek tightened his arms around Stiles and pulled him in close, burying his face in the boy's neck and inhaling his scent greedily. He was happy that Stiles was happy, but he felt like he was signing Stiles' death sentence. His past experiences told him that no good could come of this. When Stiles left him, it would kill him, but he was willing to put himself through that pain to make Stiles happy. To make himself happy for however long it lasted.

"You're going to stop going on dates, right?" he asked suddenly, pulling back a bit and looking into Stiles' face intently. Stiles grinned cheekily.

"Yeah. Why? Have you been jealous?" he teased. Derek frowned.

"_Yes_."

Stiles' smile turned more genuine. "That's good to know." He went silent again, resting his forehead on Derek's shoulder.

Derek's thoughts inexplicably went to his sister. The swirling red script of her tattoos. 'Carpe Diem' on her left forearm, 'Carpe Noctem' on her right. 'Seize the Day' and 'Seize the Night'. Live in the moment. That was his sister's life philosophy. He knew, if she were here now, that she would kick his ass into next Friday for the way he had been acting, and the way he had been treating Stiles. She would have liked Stiles. _A lot_. In certain ways, actually, Stiles and Laura were a lot alike.

"Derek..." Stiles muttered hesitantly, loathe to break the moment. Derek pulled back just enough to look into Stiles' face again, curiously, questioningly. "If you want to take things slow... we should probably get the hell out of my room and away from my bed," he grinned a little sheepishly. "Because all I can think about-"

"I got it," Derek said, interrupting him. In the back of his mind, Derek was thinking about the same thing, more or less, and if Stiles continued what he had been about to say, it would have put ideas in his head that he would have wanted to act on. _Right_. They were taking things slow. Even though that was the last fucking thing in the world that he wanted to do. What he wanted was to throw Stiles on his bed and fuck him deep into the mattress, mark his whole body, claim him and own him and make sure he knew it in every way possible.

He shuddered at the thought and stepped away from the boy regretfully. Stiles' nostrils flared and his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. He knew exactly what Derek had been thinking, could smell his arousal in the air. He'd been thinking the same thing himself. They needed to get some distance between them, and get out of Stiles' bedroom, or there would _be _no going slow.

Stiles cleared his throat, stepped further away from Derek and rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. "Uh, well, we should probably head back downstairs then, you know...?" He didn't sound too happy about it. Derek nodded mutely. Seriously, they had to get away from the bed... "Nothing will kill the mood like watching Scott and Allison being all lovey-dovey." Stiles added with a smirk. Derek wholeheartedly agreed.

He was surprised that it was Stiles who was making the move to slow things down for once. He was respecting Derek's request. And Derek wished more than anything that he wasn't. The words were already said, and he couldn't take them back, but holy hell did he want to. His body told him to just go ahead and do it, but his head told him it wasn't such a good idea. He listened to his head, as usual. Stiles was already opening the door anyway, walking into the hallway, glancing back at Derek to see if he was coming.

As Stiles walked back downstairs, Derek at his back, he was getting the strangest feelings from Derek. Regret and desire, but also a strange acceptance. He could feel the ever-present fear and pain, but it was muted, not as important as other things. It made Stiles smile. At least they were making progress. It was a _clear_victory...

"You reek of sex," Derek muttered, and Stiles stumbled on the stairs, almost toppling down them to the bottom before he caught himself on the railing. He slowly turned to look at Derek, surprised at the words.

"It's _your_ fault!" he said. He was even more surprised to see a small smile playing at the edges of Derek's lips. He almost seemed as if he were teasing. He _was _teasing! The expression looked almost out of place on his normally stoic face.

Derek shook his head with a tiny chuckle and, still gaping, Stiles turned and continued down the stairs, more carefully this time. He was surprised to find the living room completely lifeless as he got to the bottom of the stairs. He sniffed at the air and Derek mimicked him. They glanced at eachother, reaching the same conclusion. The pack wasn't here, and hadn't been for some time. They had probably left soon after Stiles had gone upstairs to confront Derek, more than likely.

There was a piece of paper lying on the coffee table, the Sherriff's Department logo stamped on top. It was from the notepad in the kitchen and it hadn't been there before. Stiles stepped forward and picked it up. Derek came up behind him to read over his shoulder, and Stiles got goosebumps as he felt Derek's breath gusting against the side of his neck.

_'Went to the house already,'_ the note read. _'Hope everything works out. Have fun and good luck!' _It was written in Lydia's loopy, flowing script and it wasn't signed. Stiles frowned.

"Have fun and good luck?" Derek said. "What is that supposed to mean?" Stiles shrugged.

"No freakin' idea. Should we go ahead and go to the house, or..." he trailed off, dirty thoughts entering his mind, desire flaring up in him that was both his own and not his own. He gave Derek a hooded glance and the Alpha licked his lips in anticipation. They still had at least three good hours before sundown, which meant they didn't have to leave Stiles' house for at least an hour. He knew _exactly _how he wanted to spend that hour.

He opened his mouth, about to make a suggestion, but Derek turned and walked out of the room before he could speak. His mouth snapped shut and he frowned again, just standing there, not knowing whether to follow Derek or wait to see if he would come back. Just as he was about to follow, he heard footsteps and Derek came back into the living room with an armful of clothes. Their clothes from the night before, dry now.

He tossed Stiles his pants and shirt, then dropped his own pants. Right there in the living room. Pretending not to notice as Stiles jaw dropped in shock and he stared, open-mouthed. He managed to close his mouth with some difficulty, swallowing, trying to remind himself that, at the moment, Derek's nudity wasn't sexual. He was just changing his clothes for chrisake! But his body wouldn't listen to him.

"Goddamn raging teenage hormones," he muttered under his breath. Derek snickered, obviously hearing him, and Stiles flushed a bit as he turned around, putting his back to Derek as he dropped his own pants. He couldn't very well let Derek see the raging hard-on he had, now could he? Derek was across the room, or he would have been able to smell Stiles' arousal anyway.

The clothes reeked of wolf and sweat and the pack, a mixture of everyone's scents, after all their clothes tumbled around in the drier together. He pulled the clothing on and sighed, as it was blessedly hot and dry now. It wouldn't be for long, though, so he better enjoy it while it lasted. It was still raining outside. Even harder now, actually, as the day wound to a close. At least it wasn't the sharp freezing rain of Winter. It was warm Summer rain. To Stiles it was a signal that his birthday was coming up soon.

He felt Derek's gaze on him and turned around as he did up the fly of his jeans. When he glanced up at the Alpha, he got that arrogant, cocky grin that he loved so much.

"I shouldn't have told you I wanted to take things slow," Derek rumbled, stepping a little closer, a teasing note in his voice that Stiles liked a lot. Stiles heart started beating triple-time, and he swallowed a lump in his throat so that he could speak.

"Well, there's still time," he hoarsed. "We don't have to leave here for at least an hour..." He took a step closer as well, and he was close enough now that he could almost feel the heat from Derek's body. He could smell the Alpha's arousal, so he knew Derek could smell his. They just looked at eachother for a moment, then Derek leaned close suddenly, making Stiles' heart skip a beat.

"I would need _much _more than an hour." His voice was low and growling, teasing and tantalizing and full of dark promises. A shudder ran through Stiles, and he bit his lip hard to stop the embarrassingly needy whimper that threatened to spill out of his throat.

Derek cocked an eyebrow at him, and that arrogant, alluring grin turned into a slightly rueful smirk, and just like that he was back to himself again. "In other words, we should probably just head to the house now." With that said, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the living room. Stiles heard the front door open behind him, but didn't turn around yet. He took a deep breath and let it out in a big sigh, then he turned and followed Derek out of the house, flipping off lights as he went, leaving their discarded pants lying on the floor where they had taken them off.

He didn't know what had gotten into his serious, brooding Alpha, but he sure as hell liked it. Really, _really _liked it…

**Hope you guys liked it. There was a much more emotional and angsty version of this chapter that I was going to post, but it didn't seem very in character to me, so this is the one that got posted. I like less angst anyway. They are still men, after all, lol.**

**Review if you love it! Or even if you don't. Tell me what's wrong with it. I love you guys you're awesome! Thanks for being so patient. **


	22. Chapter 22: She Wolf

**Hey everyone! Here is a chapter from Lydia's perspective, hope you guys like it! Haven't got my computer yet, but hopefully will before the end of June. Wish me luck guys!**

**BTW, If you love TW as much as me, please check out my fan forum! It's really easy to make an account! beaconhills(dot)proboards(dot)com**

**Also, I got my copy of Season One last week, excited about the promised "extended finale". I watched it, and couldn't figure out what they added in! Anyone know what the extended part of the finale was? lmao**

**SONG: She Wolf - _Shakira_**

Lydia felt it in her gut, the moment it happened, the shift in power in the pack. She knew what it meant, and a slow, satisfied smile crept across her perfectly glossed lips. Derek had accepted Stiles as his mate... but it was more than that, it was something else that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Yet.

She glanced at the other three members of her pack, to see if they had noticed anything. The four of them had left Stiles' house as soon as they'd heard Stiles' raised voice, trying to give their dominant packmates some privacy. It had been her idea, and they'd all looked at her like she was crazy when she suggested it.

Jackson and Scott were out in front of the old ruined house, mock-fighting, wrestling playfully in the mud, and Allison was watching them from her position sitting on the crumbling stairs, laughing as they pushed eachother into the mud. Lydia lingered near the door, trying to stay as dry as possible, even though she knew it was futile,. since they'd be running in the rain and mud later, after moonrise.

She wasn't really surprised that the others hadn't seemed to feel anything. The Pack Bond was tenuous and disconnected at times, and unconscious thing that you had to focus on and know what to look for to be able to feel. If Lydia hadn't been paying attention, waiting for a change, waiting for something to happen, she may not have noticed anything, either. If it was stronger, it may have been more obvious, but that was the problem, wasn't it?

It was difficult to predict what this new development would mean for the pack. Would it help Derek? Would their Alpha be more focused and controlled now? Would he be able to manage the pack better? Would he be free to put his past behind him? Would he be happy...?

In Lydia's opinion, Derek hadn't been a very good Alpha so far. He was still as cold and distant as ever, most of the time. He kept himself apart from the rest of them, dealing with his pain alone, in private. Which made no sense at all to her!

Werewolves were stronger in numbers, and the Alpha drew strength from his pack, but Derek didn't utilize that opportunity the way Lydia thought would have benefitted him the most. He didn't ask for help, for comfort. They were only together three times a month, which wasn't nearly enough for any of them, especially Derek. Yet they continued to let things go that way, because Derek didn't try and change them.

If Derek would stop hiding things from all of them, if he would trust them and open up, his healing might be proceeding a lot faster than it presently was. It would help for him to get the hell away from this haunted hell hole, too. To get away from the ghosts of his past so that he could be a real Alpha.

Lydia knew Stiles was good for Derek, _very_ good, but it was yet to be decided whether or not the two of them together would be good for the pack as a whole.

If things didn't start progressing in the direction she felt they should be going, she would step in, take things into her own hands, and fix the problems herself. She had tried to help things along a couple of times, but nothing ever went right. It would take careful planning and plotting to get things right, if she were to try again.

Lydia had been human not too long ago. She'd only been a werewolf for a few short months, but she was a very fast learner. She knew what made an Alpha, what a good Alpha was supposed to be... and it wasn't what Derek was... or what Peter had been.

When Derek had killed his uncle and taken on the mantle of Alpha, he hadn't been emotionally ready for the responsibility of it. A pack needed a guiding hand, a trusting and trustworthy authority figure that knew his pack well enough to know what they needed and how to give it to him. An Alpha was supposed to be all about his pack, devoted to them, and the pack was supposed to feel the same about the Alpha. A pack was supposed to be a family, supposed to be able to rely on one another for anything and everything and always be there for eachother.

Every werewolf instinctively knew what made a good Alpha, but, sadly, there were few Alpha's out there that fit into that mold. Which was why the Alpha Female existed. The Alpha's counterpart, the one that compensated for all that the Alpha Male couldn't provide.

Lydia realized, then, what was different, what was_ more_. The pack had two Alpha Males, now. Stiles was Derek's mate, which made him Alpha also. But he wasn't a woman, so he couldn't be the Alpha Female... which made him a co-Alpha, of sorts.

Lydia knew it was a disaster, just waiting to happen. Too much testosterone and not enough nurturing. As Head Beta now, it was her job to keep the pack in line where their Alpha's fell short. With no female leader, it was her job to fill that roll.

Contrary to popular belief, Lydia was not a horrid bitch. She didn't want to keep Stiles and Derek apart, or come between them. She knew they loved eachother, and she loved her pack. She just wanted what was best for them. They were the family that she never had, and she would never do anything to really hurt them.

She never wanted to take Stiles' place, or become Alpha Female no matter who stood in her way. Everyone always thought the worst of her. Not that she blamed them. She knew the way she was perceived; as a stuck up, selfish, vain, power-hungry bitch. It was only partly accurate. Yes, she did crave power, but not just for the sake of power itself. She craved it because she knew she could use it, as a tool, to benefit herself and her pack. She was smart and sensible and careful, and she knew she could handle a position of power.

She would have thought that Stiles, of all people, would have seen past her bitch-mask, past the exterior, to her true intentions. He had proven before that he was good at seeing the truth, but this time he had let her down.

The night of the formal, after all that he had said to her, she knew she had fallen a tiny bit in love with him. He was the first person to see the real her, to look past her outer facade to the girl underneath. She knew he was different, that he could truly _see_ her.

He seemed to have forgotten the brief glimpse of her he had stolen, though, because he had been treating her differently lately, as if she were a different person. Ever since he had kissed her. Things between them were strained and uncomfortable, as if he was expecting her to challenge him or betray him in some way. It hurt, even if she didn't show it.

She knew he feared losing Derek more than anything, but how could he think that she would be a threat to their relationship? How could anyone NOT see the way that Derek looked at Stiles when he thought no one was watching him? It was adorable and pathetic and helpless and nobody in the world had a chance of getting between the two thickheaded boys.

It was difficult to admit to herself, but she was just lonely. She missed talking to Stiles, missed their easy friendship, missed Jackson's company. She spent alot of time at Allison's little studio apartment, but female companionship just wasn't the same as male companionship.

For the billionth time in the past week, Lydia wondered whether she had made a mistake in breaking up with Jackson. She still loved him, but things were different between them, and there was no going back now. She couldn't pretend to be the stupid girl he had once thought her to be. He knew her better now, better than he ever had, better than anyone else.

She knew him, too. Whether he knew it or not - and she would bet that he didn't - she had broken up with him for his own good. She had done it for him. It was nothing to do with his rank, as she had made him believe. She could have lived with his Omega status, if she had to. She had done it because he wasn't happy with her, but she knew he would never have willingly admitted it to himself. She had done him a favor, no matter how he wanted to look at it.

His love for her had changed in the past year or so. He looked at her differently. She didn't feel passion from him anymore. It even felt different when they kissed. Being with her wasn't making him happy, not the way it was supposed to. Not the way that being with Allison made Scott happy, for example. She wasn't his mate, he wasn't hers, and they couldn't go on pretending everything was okay between them.

They could, however, go on pretending everything was okay with the rest of the pack. And they did a damn fine job of it, too. No one in the pack suspected that they had broken up, as far as she knew. It was kind of sad, really. Especially because of the way Jackson looked at her lately. How could anyone _not_ notice? He looked at her distrustfully, disdainfully, as if she had intentionally hurt him and wanted nothing to do with him.

Everyone was too absorbed with their own problems and relationships to pay attention to hers. Not that she blamed them. She knew she wasn't the center of the universe. Scott and Allison were all over eachother all the time, and Stiles was being affected by his constant state of arousal for Derek, and Derek was feeling the same toward Stiles and trying to ignore it. It made sense, she supposed, that no one noticed.

Someone outside of the pack had noticed, however, and she found it sort of cute and amusing. Jackson supposed best friend, the one he had been trying so hard to avoid lately, had noticed almost immediately that there was something different between them. He had confronted her about it on friday, after school, asking her when she and Jackson had broken up. "He told you?" was her reaction. But he hadn't. Even though Jackson tried to stay away from Danny, tried to protect him from the new part of his life, Danny still paid enough attention to Jackson to notice something different. She wondered how he hadn't noticed the other changes in Jackson lately...

She had told Jackson that Danny knew, and wondered if he knew what it meant. She knew what it meant, had known for three years now. It meant Danny was in love with Jackson. He had been for a long time, but Lydia had kept her mouth shut about it.

She knew what had happened between Jackson and Stiles beside the lake, and she knew why Jackson had started looking at her differently. She _knew_, she just wondered if it was time to say something to Jackson about it. About all of it.

**Hope it wasn't a disappointment. I needed to show you guys things from Lydia's perspective. Some interesting developements are going to happen, and if I want you guys to like my fic, I can't have you hating Lydia! lol**

**Please review! Tell my why you did or didn't like the chapter, what I could do better, what your favorite part was, or whatever. Love you guys lots! Hope to post another chapter very soon, but not making any promises, as usual...**


	23. twenty two point five: A Few Words

I apologize that this isn't a new chapter… but I just had to say a few things.

I should be getting my new laptop in about a week, maybe less, so… YAY!

I definitely won't be posting a new chapter until I get my computer, but that's not the only reason. I'm kind of struggling about where to go from here. I have about three different directions I could go with the next chapter, and I haven't decided which one I'm going to go with yet…

Also, now that we know the 'omega' is a lone wolf, and not the lowest in rank, I feel like I should go back and change "omega" to "gamma" in every chapter of this fic, lol. I may just do that, before I post my next chapter. I just find it kind of hilarious - no offense – that all the fics that say the omega is the lowest member of the pack are all AUs now, whether they were before or not, rofl.

The first two episodes are AWESOME! I'm SOOOO frickin' excited about the new season that I am getting on all my family and friends' nerves, lmao, and even my boyfriend is starting to get tired of my squealing and hyperventilating, haha.

Isaac is adorable! And Derek is even HOTTER than last season, if that's possible. Love his new hideout, btw, hehe, sooo fitting. When he and Stiles were talking about him distracting the cop lady, he SO should have tried a line on Stiles when Stiles asked "what are you going to open with?" That would have been awesome, especially if Stiles got all flustered by it, lmao. That would have made my night, but it was awesome anyway! Jackson, posing in front of the mirror, TOTALLY reminded me of my conceited boyfriend, lmao. Which is funny, because Jacks is his fave character. We have yet to see a Stiles and Lydia scene, so, can't wait for that.

My bf and I were speculating about a few things, and I totally think that Gramps Argent is the weird lizard-shifter-creature! He takes all those pills to supress it. He seems like the type that would do anything to kill werewolves, even if that meant becoming a monster himself. Also, Isaac and Stiles are brothers. They have the same mom. Lol, just kidding, that would be weird though, hehe. I'm sure there will be some interesting new slashes with Isaac now... I've been brainstorming about a few myself, but don't want to start one yet until I see more of his character and get to know him better. He's going to be on the run now and hiding out with Derek in his subway station, lol. OMG, that preview scene they showed, where the blond girl was sandwiched between Jackson and Isaac was SO hott! Can't wait for that!

Okay, so my intention was not to go on and on about the new season and get on everytone's nerves... but that's probably what I've done, soooo, Ima shut up about it now, lol. If anypne wants to chat about the new season, you can message me! I'd be happy to! And, um, you could also go to my forum and chat about it... plenty of places for that there, and I don't have many members yet... I'm not super active on the forum NOW, but in about a week when I get my computer, I will be hyper-active on it, lmao. If you need the link again, it's beaconhills(dot)proboards(dot)com but replace the (dot)'s with a . no duh, lol, and it's also on my profile if you can't figure it out...

Okay, to the real point of this "point five" chapter: what do you guys think should happen next with SMYT? It's the full moon night, and I want something exciting to happen. I have some ideas about other 'wolves coming to play, but haven't decided if that should happen in this fic or it's sequal. Yeah, there will be at least one sequal, if not two, and a prequal. I was thinking of having chapter twenty-five be the last chapter, and starting on the prequal afterward. That would probably piss some of you off, lol, but it may be what's best... So what do you guys think? Any ideas or preferences for what happens next?

I'm really excited about the prequal, actually, called _Seek The Wolf In Thyself_, now that I have season one on DVD and can get things going along better. It's basically season one, being AU one one of the first episodes... Stiles gets Bitten a couple weeks after Scott, but something interesting happens and things don't go as planned. He ends up having to keep it a secret from Scott for a short time, and he and Derek spend alot of time together. Once he tells Scott, the three guys form a mini-Alpha-less-pack of sorts... and other things happen... don't want to give too much away...

Sorry this has been sort of rambly and weird, lol, but that's me! Let me know what you guys think, make an account on my forum, send me a message, and squeal about season one with me! lol

Love you guys! You're all frickin' totally awesome. Yeah buddy!

"You're dirty..." (roflmao)


	24. finale

I'm sorry to all of you who liked this story, but I probably won't be continuing it. After season two, my views on things have changed too much to continue with this story line. I've tried to continue it multiple times, but nothing matches up right, and I can't get it out. I had a few ideas about how things should go, though, before season two came along and changed me, lol. If you want to know how the story could have ended up, message me and I'll give you a brief rundown. Hope no one is too disappointed.

I'll be posting other fics in the future, maybe quite soon.

Thanks for reading and I apologize for abandoning you, I know how much it sucks, if you really liked the story, but there was no other choice for me.

- Wolf Caper


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